Ron's Worst Nightmare
by Villain
Summary: Draco is trapped with the Weasly's while in hiding from his father. There he learns to pull his weight, and finds out what it is to love and be loved. Ron/Draco mainly, but who knows. I'm full of surprises. **SLASH** ~*COMPLETE!*~ ^o^
1. Veagance at a High Price

Ron's Worst Nightmare  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Okay, after I started "The Weasel and the Ferret" I just couldn't stop thinking about all these R/D plots. So. Yupperdoo! And don't forget to tell me what you think!!  
  
Chapter One: Vengeance at a High Price  
  
"You little stinking bastard!!" Lucius Malfoy slapped his son hard across the face, splitting the young boy's lip and drawing blood. It ran over his snow white skin and down his chin, dripping off. But the fiery defiance in his eyes did not waver. Even as his father landed a stinging blow to his temple with the steel toe of his snake hyde boot.  
  
There had been a major battle at the secret location where the Dark Lord met with the Death Eaters to discuss courses of action. Before the meeting had a chance to start, hundreds of Aurors arrived unexpectedly and killed a number of Dark Wizards.  
  
Unfortunately, Malfoy had escaped. Only to come home and find his only son, Draco, hurriedly packing his bags. It seemed that his heir - his own flesh and blood - had informed Dumbledore, the rotting bastard, of the meeting and it's location.  
  
And now, Draco was paying the price.  
  
Another blow landed, this time in his stomach and he could hear dully the cracking of ribs. He wondered vaguely when his father would use one of the Unforgivable Curses.  
  
Like he had on Narcissa.  
  
Draco opened his silvery eyes and looked into the glassy gaze of his mother's dead face, her mouth stretched open and twisted into a terrible cry, silenced in death.  
  
Death.   
  
She had died screaming and in agony but a few minutes ago. Right in front of him by his father's hand.  
  
"So you thought you'd just rat out on us, did you?" sneered Lucious, grabbing the front of his son's robes and pulling him roughly to his feet. When the boy did not respond, Malfoy cuffed him sharply on the side of the head. Draco's eyes were blackened, his lips split. Various bruises dotted his usually flawless skin. Several ribs were cracked, perhaps even broken. It didn't matter much now though. His life would come to an end in a matter of minutes.  
  
If he was lucky.   
  
~*~  
  
"Black! Black, I can't find Lucious. I think he Apparated," gasped a young witch by the name of Iris Stonn. She was Sirius Black's partner and was now running towards the tall man with the coal black hair and hard eyes.  
  
He looked up at her, the tip of his wand touching the throat of a captured Death Eater.  
"He's gone?"  
  
"Yes. We can't find him anywhere. Sirius, the boy-"  
  
"Dammit. Where's Bill?"  
  
"Bill? Why-"  
  
"Iris please."  
  
"I'm here Sirius." An overtired man walked up to them, his eyes weary and sad. His bright red hair had come undone from his hair band and now lay in a wild and tangly mess about his face. Another wizard came up with him, an young Auror.  
  
"Bill, Malfoy's gone, but his son is still at the mansion."  
  
The younger man nodded his understanding. "Where shall I take him until Dumbledore makes his decision?"  
  
"I suppose you should take him straight to Dumbledore. He'll know what to do with him. But we must act fast," Iris said worriedly.  
  
"Of course, I'll see you both later." And with that, he and the Auror disappeared.  
  
Sirius glanced down distastefully at the Death Eater looking up at him with pure loathing. There was something in the Dark Wizard's eyes. Madness, fear. Hate. It unnerved the Auror so much that he was just going to bind the boy's hands and let him go with a Ministry worker. But before he could move to do so, the Death Eater let out a pitiful wail and shot forward so quickly and hard that the wand sunk into his skin, breaking through into his throat.  
  
Iris gasped and Sirius flinched. Then, drawing the bloody wand from the still twitching wizard's neck, he wiped the blood away and looked around him at all the death.  
  
He just hoped that Bill would arrive in time, or another life would be lost.  
  
~*~  
  
"I would make you suffer more, my son, but those witless fools will be after you soon." He had Draco up against the wall, cutting off his air. Draco hung a few inches off the ground, limp and fading. There was a bloody gash in his head and he had lost his sense of smell and of sight.   
  
"Goodbye Draco. You are a failure and a shame to your bloodline. As of now, I disown you as my son and heir. May you rot in agony." He held up his wand and rested it against his son's forehead. Draco's lips parted and a bubble of blood dribbled down his chin. He knew this was the end. But the pain was too much. He had wronged so many. Death was an escape. And he welcomed it.  
  
Lucius' cold voice sounded so hateful and angry that Draco flinched visibly under it; "Avada Ke-"  
  
"Crucio," said another voice unexpectedly. A tired voice that sounded something like beyond exhaustion. There stood two wizards. One who looked like a redheaded wild man, and the other a shaky nervous wreck.   
  
As Lucius fell to the ground, writhing in pain and agony, Draco sunk to his knees, blinded by pain. Bill rushed up to the boy and wrapped his arms around him. The Auror stood over Lucius, his mouth set in a grim line.  
  
Then Bill took something out of his pocket and unwrapped it. He put Draco's hand on it and tapped it with his wand. They both started to twirl through the air at a mind numbing speed, their surroundings melting away around them.  
  
Slowly, an office came into view. Dumbledore sat at the desk, scratching away at cream colored parchment with a long white quill. He looked up as Draco and Bill appeared and furrowed his brow in dismay as he saw the broken boy in Bill's arms.  
  
"Merlin, Lucius got to him."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"We must take him to the hospital wing. Discussion of his fate we will have to do tomorrow, when he is better and this has cleared away." Glancing up at the taller man, he said with a touch of uncertainty in his ancient voice, "And the battle?"  
  
Bill sighed, "Twenty Dark Wizards hit. Fifteen wounded. Five dead. The others got away." He looked crestfallen. "This includes the Dark Lord. He wasn't even there when we arrived."  
  
Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, I thought as much. He will not pose a dangerous threat to us for a while now. But regardless, he'll be back. Now though, we will tend to Draco."  
  
Bill nodded and hefted the boy for a better grip. He was light as a feather and the Weasly could feel his hip bone protruding from his side and felt a pang of guilt. He had always hated the Malfoys, all of them. But seeing the twisted look of pain on this young boy's face made Bill want to help.  
  
"But as to where we will keep him, I do not know. Doubtless, they'll come after him." They had arrived at the hospital wing and set Draco down gently on a bed where he lay comatose. But Bill was paying no attention as Madam Pomfrey rushed in. She was wearing muggle clothes since school was out, but immediately took on her nurse face as she saw to her patient.  
  
An idea was forming in Bill's head. He looked over at at the pale boy in the bed and his expression softened. He snapped out of his daze, realizing that Dumbledore was talking.  
  
"We could leave him with muggles. Maybe even Harry. No, those muggles would never go for that."  
  
"He could stay with my family," pointed out Bill helpfully.  
  
"Or maybe Snape would- no, he has his mission. That is quite enough for the man to deal with."  
  
"Albus, he could stay with me."  
  
"They'll look in muggle homes won't they? Hmmm, I think-"  
  
"Professor!"  
  
Dumbledore blinked and looked at Bill as if he just noticed him standing there, clenching his fists in agitation, "Oh, yes my boy?"  
  
"Malfoy - Draco can stay with my family. It's safe. And his father's friends would never think to look there. We could protect him. Can you imagine this boy, Draco Malfoy, being locked up with muggles? I don't think so."  
  
That familiar light entered Albus's eyes and he laid a hand on Bill's shoulder. "I thank you, Bill Weasly. You are most right, you know. They would never expect that."  
  
Bill grinned and looked over at Draco, who was in a deep sleep.  
  
Won't Mum be surprised, he thought excitedly.  
  
And as Draco slept, Dumbledore and Bill arranged everything and contacted the Weasly family. When he woke up, Draco would be the newest member of the Weasly clan.  
  
A/N: Dammit, that sucked. I'm so ashamed. *hangs head* I'm a decent writer, I swear!! *crosses heart* I promise that the future will be better. Funnier, too. Heh. Please tell me what you think. Have mercy on my talentless soul! *puppy eyes* But if you're a big fan of R/D, go check out "The Weasel and the Ferret". Has a touch (okay, more than a touch) of D/H action, too. So maybe, you know, if you have a few extra minutes time? Eh? Come on, you know you want to!! *grin* I'm such a moocher. ^_^  
  
~*Villain*~ 


	2. Ladida Ladida

Ron's Worst Nightmare  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Sorry this took so long!! Thanx are at the end!!   
  
Chapter Two: La-di-da La-di-da   
  
"What!?" Ron stared at his mother in unmasked horror. He had gone completely white, even his freckles had paled. The twins had gone silent, and Ginny looked like a mannequin, froze with her spoon sticking halfway out of her mouth.  
  
Bill crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his siblings. Mrs. Weasly gave them all stern looks, "Now, he needs help. His father wants to kill him! The poor boy has no where else to go."  
  
"But he's a Malfoy," yelled Ron angrily, standing up. The twins nodded mutely in unison. Ginny calmly set down her spoon and slammed her head on the table.  
  
"Don't speak to me in that tone, young man," warned Mrs. Weasly. Ron pursed his lips, but did not look away from his mother and brother.  
  
Sighing, Bill leaned up against the counter, massaging his temples, "His mother is dead. His father has escaped and is out for his blood." He looked up and gave Ron the most pitiful look and the youngest Weasly boy had to look down at the floor.  
  
Growling and flopping ungracefully back in his chair, Ron made a cringing face, "Where's the slimy git supposed to sleep."  
  
Bill grinned and mussed Ron's hair, "Thatta boy."  
  
"That's not answering my question."   
  
George grinned evilly and looked at his brother, who mirrored his face.  
  
Mrs. Weasly saw this look and shook her finger, "No way, you two. You will not even speak to Draco. Not one word. Or you'll be sorry."  
  
They both looked crestfallen. Usually a warning from their mum wouldn't matter, but the tone was everything. And this one meant business.  
  
"Mum, Bill? Where's he sleeping!?" Ron looked a little panicked.  
  
Ginny moaned, "Mum, you call him by his first name now?"  
  
"Of course, dear. Now eat up and come to Diagon alley with me. I wanted to fit your robes early."  
  
"Will you please answer me!!" Ron was on his feet.  
  
Bill's grin widened and he too stood, "Why, your room of course."  
  
~*~  
  
Draco blinked open his pale eyes and the bright light stabbed at them harshly. He turned his head and threw an arm over his face, shutting out the rays of sunlight.  
  
How the hell did it get so damned light, he growled mentally. Then, trying again, he open his eyes tiny bit by tiny bit and the room in which he lay came into all too sharp focus.  
  
It was orange.   
  
Terribly orange. A kind of orange that would have you despising citrus for the rest of your life.  
  
Orange. Why did that remind him of something?  
  
There were also smells. Cookies and home baked breads. Warmth and faintly- spices. He was wrapped up in a good and homey feeling. Something he wasn't used to in the least.  
  
But where could he be? What had happened?  
  
And why in Icy Hell was he wearing a fluffy lime green bath robe!?  
  
His eyes darted around, taking in all that he saw with a barely controlled panic. The walls had posters of a Quidditch team which looked at him interestedly, whispering to each other. Next to the bed he lay in was a picture of three people. All three looked familiar, but Draco couldn't place them quite right.  
  
One of them had frizzy brown hair and a pretty face. She was sitting in between two boys with a large book in her lap. She wore a yellow sun dress with a wide brimmed hat. A scarf trailed down her torso, tied around her slender neck. She was smiling at him and swinging her legs. Next to the girl sat a somewhat gawky framed boy with unruly black hair and thick rimmed glasses. A lighting bolt scar ran between his brows and enchanting emerald eyes danced with laughter and joy. His arm was around the girl and he was smiling pleasantly.  
  
The last person in the picture was a tall and lanky boy with flaming red hair and warm brown eyes. He mouth was turned up into a charming half smile and eyes crinkled in happiness. His long legs were splayed out in front of him and he was putting bunny ears behind the girl's head.  
  
For some reason, his made Draco feel suddenly lonely. He knew that his mother, the only person who actually made an effort to understand him, was dead. But his father he knew nothing about. His friends, if you could even call them such things, upon hearing what he did, would most likely kill him on sight.  
  
His eyes landed back on the picture and he lifted it gingerly off the table and gazed at it.  
Potty, the Mudblood, and Weasel. And as to why they were here, he didn't know. But as to where 'here' was- he didn't know that either.  
  
The room was cluttered with books and various things. A broomstick leaned up against the shockingly orange wall across from the orange blanketed bed. The Quidditch poster of- Draco paused- ah yes, the Chudley Cannons in their orange uniforms.  
  
Worst team in the league weren't they?  
  
"Weasly's favorite," mused Draco. He got up out of the bed, setting the picture back on the table and ran a finger down the side of the poster.  
  
Thinking of Weasly, this whole room practically reeked of him. The team he always talked about, pictures of his friends, school books, family photos, different snacks and food from Hogsmeade, and-  
  
Oh dear God.  
  
His jaw practically hit the floor and his stomach plummeted. Knees buckling, Draco fell to the floor with a strangled cry. The bath robe ruffled around him and settled. The room swam before his eyes, a spinning whirlwind of orange.  
  
This was NOT happening.  
  
Then the door opened and in walked Bill, Albus Dumbledore, Mrs. Weasly and Mr. Weasly, Sirius, and Iris bringing up the rear and looking considerably worse for wear.  
  
They all stood over him with deepest sympathy in their eyes and Draco felt like he was going to be sick all over their shoes. It was an awfully tempting idea. Get them back for doing this.... this.... evil thing to him!  
  
"Draco, how are you feeling?"  
  
That was Dumbledore talking. Draco looked up at him as if in a daze, his mouth was still frozen open.  
  
Mrs. Weasly knelt dow next to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She pulled him over so that his head was resting on her shoulder and he let her do it with no protest. At the current moment, getting hugged was the least of his problems.  
  
"He should get more rest," said Mrs. Weasly sternly to the Headmaster, absentmindedly stroking his brow and swiping back the silvery hair from his eyes, now closed shut tightly. Dumbledore sighed and nodded. Sirius pursed his lips, but Iris laid a hand on his arm and he was silent.  
  
"Draco? Draco, dear, open your eyes." Mrs. Weasly titled his chin up and when he did open his eyes, he was looking right into her warm brown gaze. He immediately tried to twist away, but found that his strength had ebbed. So he weakly pushed at her arms and she let him go, though a touch reluctantly.  
  
"Where am I?" he asked firmly.  
  
Bill smiled warmly and with a small nod from Dumbledore, spoke.  
  
"You see, Draco, you're father-"  
  
"He is not my father," stated Draco coldly. They stared at him in surprise, but Bill just raised his eyebrows and continued.  
  
"Lucius escaped from one of the Aurors watching him. Killed him. And I'm going to be honest, he's after you. So for the time being, until things clear up, you'll be staying here with me and my family for safekeeping."  
  
"Why here," he croaked out. His silver eyes darkened.  
  
"Because this is the last place any Death Eater would ever think to find you," said Sirius flatly.  
  
There was nothing Draco could say to that. He knew it was true. And he doubted that anything he would do or say could get him out of it.  
  
"I know this may be the wrong time, but Draco, we have the upper hand at the moment so if you know anything more that cold be useful to us...." Dumbledore trailed off, watching him.  
  
"Nothing," mumbled Draco, burying his head in his arms.  
  
The adults looked at each other. Sirius sighed and with a pop, he and Iris Disapparated. Dumbledore, with one last look at Draco, left too.  
  
Mr. Weasly, Mrs. Weasly and Bill stood in the uncomfortable silence and Draco ignored them. He saw his trunks by a closet and wondered what they had packed.  
  
"Well, I think I'll go tend to those cookies," Mrs. Weasly said, trying desperately to sound cheerful. Mr. Weasly nodded and followed her out. And Bill was left, standing there above Draco in silence.  
  
"Why would you do this for me?" he mumbled into his arm.  
  
Bill shrugged and sat down next to the fallen boy. He looked around his brother's room, and than back at Draco and laughed.  
  
Silver eyes burned into his own brown eyes and Draco hissed, "What is so funny?"  
  
"You and the room. Sorry, but you clash horribly and I find it funny. Lime green, silver, and orange do not go together in the least. I'd expect *you* of all people would notice this."  
  
"In my current position, I'm not noticing much of anything," he pointed out icily, and Bill felt uncomfortable again. Malfoys had this kind of feeling that surrounded them that would send chills up your spine.  
  
Changing the subject, Bill stood up and motioned to the suitcases, "How about getting dressed and coming down for breakfast? Mum's a great cook and you need some sort of nutrients. And don't worry, the others are gone."  
  
Hesitantly, Draco rose to his feet. He was about a head or two shorter than the slim Bill and to the older boy looked especially delicate. Bill thought of offering to help him walk, but didn't. Draco did not need to be babied.  
  
"Okay then, see you downstairs."  
  
He left and Draco collapsed to the floor again. His legs shook and his stomach turned. Obviously, he had lost a lot of blood and was still suffering from it. So, slowly but surely, he carefully made his way across the room to his cases and opening them, found a different assortment of robes and clothes. Choosing a simple black garment, he went through the agonizing process of dressing and made his way down the stairs.  
  
Just out of sight of the kitchen, he straightened and held up his head. The Weaslys would not need to see him so weak.  
  
The room was warm and full of delicious smells. Draco's mouth watered as he slid into a chair. Bill sat across from him, brown eyes filled with a sort of brotherly worry.  
  
Draco would've sneered, but before he knew it, a large plate stacked with steaming pancakes was set in front of him. The heavenly aroma wafted up his nose and he forgot about sneering. And to the joy of both Weaslys, dug into the food with a hungry vengeance, not even bothering to add syrup or butter.  
  
In a few minutes, he had devoured each and every one of the soft buttermilk pancakes. To Bill's great surprise, the young Malfoy looked perfectly clean, as if he had just been sitting there doing nothing.  
  
Mrs. Weasly clucked and cooed happily, dishing up more and more. And along with several tall glasses of ice cold milk, Draco consumed more food than Bill had thought possible for one to eat. This boy was like a dream come true to Bill's mother, who had always complained that no one ate heartily any more.  
  
After finishing off his last plate, Draco casually leaned back and put his hands laced behind his blonde head. Then surprisingly, he turned to Mrs. Weasly and thanked her politely. She was beaming as she took away his plate, looking over his head at Bill who was still ogling at the empty plate.  
  
Draco closed his eyes and sighed in contentment. But Bill noticed that the boy's shoulders were still tensed.  
  
He looked a the clock and saw that Ron's hand was on "traveling". Guessing that both Ron and Draco would not like at that moment to meet, he addressed Draco, "Would you like to come with me to London? Get out of this house for a while and out into the fresh air?"  
  
Draco looked back blankly for a moment, his eyes turning. Then he shrugged and stood up. Bill nodded and asked his mother where the Portkey was.  
  
"On top of the mantle in the living room. Now, be careful you two!"  
  
Bill led Draco into the living room and retrieved the portkey. At the same time they touched and felt the familiar jerk in their guts. Soon, they were swirling blindly through the air to London.  
  
Right when they had disappeared, Ron stalked in hesitantly, looking around. Upon seeing no Malfoy about, he walked inside.  
  
"Hello mum. Where's Bill?"  
  
"He and Draco went to London to run some errands for me. Oh, Ron, don't give me that look! Draco is a charming boy and you'll just have to get used to him being here. And you'll get your chance to talk with him later today because I want you boys to go out in the garden to do some de-Gnoming."  
  
"Mum!" Ron whined, dropping into a chair. De-Gnoming the garden with Malfoy who had probably never lifted a finger for himself to do anything?  
  
Bloody hell.  
  
A/N: Okies! Thanx to Clam Chowder: Thank you, really. But I still don't like part 1 that much. Weirdo: Thank you. The idea was just a spontanious thing. Glad you like. Carrie: *looks etremely embarassed* Eep, you're right! Oops. Heh. ^_^ Jazz Goddess: Okay, so maybe by "soon", you meant months? Fee hee. Sara the Green Witch: Oh goodness me! You're right! Oh well, I failed spelling anyhoos. Kimagure: Thank you thank you!! MamaLaz: Oh, yes, us authors! *_~ Thank you so much! fangrlwlotsofideas: I like D/H too. R/D are just a recent craze! WildfireFriendship: Thank you! Sorry I'm such a slow poke. ~_~ LillianaNoelia: Thanx ever so much! PrettyWhenICry: Thank you, I'm really flattered! ^_^ Nagi ;-) OShaRe: What's wrong with going insane? *grin* :^D snowchildSally: Trust me, dearie, they'll take their time! ^_^ Aloria the hyper spy-wizard: Too much violence? TOO MUCH VIOLENCE??!! *thinks* Really? penelope M B.: *giggles* Silly, it IS rated PG-13! And I know there are kids on this sight. What do ya think I am? =^} THANK YOU TO YOU ALL SO MUCH!!! *sob* I feel so loved!  
  
~*Villain*~ 


	3. Midget Tosser

Ron's Worst Nightmare  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Okay, this chap's extremely crappy and boring at the start, but it gets really good and funny, I swear!! Thanx are at the end after my rambling author notes which I beg you to read!!  
  
Chapter Three: Midget Tosser  
  
Bill and Draco had arrived in an alleyway. After climbing out of a garbage can and picking bits of rotten fish off himself, Draco glared at the older boy. But his glare turned instantly into a grin as Bill rose out of a dumpster, a used condom hanging off his nose.  
  
The Weasly had to cross his eyes to properly see the object which stuck to his face, smelling oddly. When it dawned on him that this was a muggle safe sex instrument, he squawked and flicked it away with his wand.  
  
Unfortunately, he had flung it straight at Draco, whom it hit right in the face. Reeling backwards, the former Slytherin plopped back into the smelly garbage can. He pulled off the condom and gagged.  
  
When they had finally made it out of the alleyway safely, Bill performed a quick spell that cleaned everything and left them smelling like mint. Then he pulled out list from his pocket and began to read off what was on it.  
  
"Alright, we need to stop by the Leaky Cauldron and pick up some pig's wart. Then we need to-"  
  
Charming, thought Draco, watching the tall red head reading the list. So far, Bill had been a pretty fair guy. Actually, over the years, Draco found his hatred for the poor family dwindling into a petty dislike of his school enemy, Ron. Mrs. Weasly was an enchanting woman and a master cook, and what Draco knew of Mr. Weasly was that he was a kind soul always bending over backwards to do good for others. Even if they were lowly muggles.  
  
"Draco?" Bill tapped him on the shoulder, snapping him back into the real world. Draco gave him an easy smile and Bill smiled back. Any uneasiness between the two was fading quickly and was almost gone by the time they had gone through everything on the list.  
  
They both had received quite a few looks from other wizards. Obviously, it was rather strange to see a Weasly and a Malfoy together and unharmed.  
  
Bill sent the groceries back to his mother with a causal spell and turned back to the blonde.  
"Want to go get some ice cream? Then afterwards we can just cruise awhile."  
  
Cruise? Draco smirked, "Sure."  
  
Sitting at an old rickety wire table outside a small ice cream shop, Bill discreetly studied his charge over a mound of rocky road. Draco noticed the red head's eyes on him, but didn't mind. He was used to being stared at, gawked at, ogled at, admired even. And Bill could look at him as long as he dang well pleased.  
  
Purposefully getting a small spot of strawberry on his nose, Draco looked up at Bill. Instantly, the older boy rubbed his own nose. Draco ignored it.  
  
"Draco?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You have a bit of cream on your nose."  
  
Draco wiped at it, completely missing. Bill pointed and he tried again, missing. Finally, wondering why in Merlin's name he was doing this, he asked Bill to get it for him.  
  
Blushing ever so slightly, Bill leaned over the round table and wiped the ice cream off of Draco's nose. The blonde smiled, a little disappointed that it hadn't been licked off, and continued to eat.  
  
Then he froze.   
  
Wait a darn tootin' second! Was he, Draco Malfoy, *flirting*? Wanting Bill to LICK the ice cream off his nose? A WEASLY?? His eyes dropped and he mentally scolded himself.  
  
Yeah, so what if he's nice to you? You can't go around flirting with every nice guy you meet. For Merlin's sakes, he SAVED you!! And here you are, flirting!  
  
Finished with ice cream, the two wizards walked around until they came upon an expensive clothing store. Immediately feeling playful, Draco grabbed Bill's arm and tugged him inside.  
  
"Ooh! We just have to go in here!!" He squealed and would've shot full speed into the store, had not Bill stopped him.  
  
"What's gotten into you, Draco?" Bill wondered if these mood swings were normal. Maybe it was the ice cream.....  
  
"Sugar. And you're being such a nice guy." Now why did I say that? How incredibly dwonky. God, now he thinks I'm some kind of ditzy boy toy.  
  
Now, was that a bad thing?  
  
Bill laughed, "Then we'll just have to keep you chocked full of that sweet stuff then, eh?"  
  
Draco couldn't help but grin. He felt good with Bill. In fact, the whole time they had been together, he had not thought once of his father. And, if he could do anything about it, he would like very much to keep it that way. So he took Bill's hand tightly in his own, their fingers lacing together as if by habit, and pulled him through the store until they reached a section where they had full body mirrors and a young woman with a measuring tape around her neck.  
  
"May I help you?" she asked, eyeing them appraisingly. But when she noticed their hands clasped together, she smile faded slightly.  
  
Draco held back a giggle and looked around. He felt especially obnoxious today. And this girl looked like a right snob. He felt the Malfoy trait of heartless mischief shoot through his veins and grinned quite evilly. The girl's smile disappeared and she sighed inwardly.  
  
God, not another one. And they're always blonde pretty boys! Yeesh.  
  
She grudgingly motioned to the pedestal and Draco stifled a giggle, straightening his face. "That pedestal is rather high, don't you think?" And grimacing, the girl helped him up. Bill hid a smile behind his hand and sat down in one of the chairs.  
  
Now *this*, was the Draco Malfoy he remembered.  
  
~*~  
  
Ron entered his bedroom and gasped. The bed had been slept in and a robe- lime green- lay discarded on the ground.  
  
Malfoy!  
  
He gagged, then noticed the picture of himself with Harry and Hermione slightly crooked on the night stand. He picked it up and sighed. Harry and Hermione would be there soon. Maybe all this wouldn't be so terribly, despicably, horribly, painfully..... bad with them around.  
  
Or not. Draco Malfoy had slept in his bed. In nothing but a thick, full bodied robe on. Okay, so maybe just his feet and his head touch the sheets. But still! It was Malfoy. A slimy gittish Malfoy that he had to garden with.  
  
With a groan, the slim teen fell back on the bed. Then he noticed a book sticking half way out of Malfoy's bag. Curious, he walked over and snatched it from the suitcase, reading the title.  
  
"Evil is as Evil Does", by Attila the Hun.  
  
Wowzers, deep stuff. He went downstairs, flopping into an easy chair, and began to read.  
  
~*~  
  
After about a half an hour, the poor girl looked about forty years older.   
  
Draco was modeling a drop dead dress suit that fit his body perfectly. Even Bill was taken aback by the shape. It was a deep gray flecked with black and under it was a creamy white silk shirt part way up buttoned. Draco's hair hung down in his eyes, and the whole outfit gave him a type of dignified edge.  
  
"Hmmm. I like this, Sue, dear. You've done good." He patted her head like a dog and jumped off of the pedestal. Sauntering into the changing rooms, he got out of the suit and Sue wrapped it up for sale. Luckily, Draco had some money in his pockets.  
  
When they got outside, Bill started towards the Leaky Cauldron, only to be drug to a stop by a pouty young Malfoy. He gave the older boy a sweet innocent smile that made Bill's heart flutter, and said, "We're done *already*?"  
  
Bill, not able to resist the charm of the younger boy, sighed and let himself be dragged down the cobblestone street. This boy is worse than Ginny! he thought to himself.  
  
~*~  
  
Ron looked up from the book and saw Bill and Malfoy waltz in through the front door, arms bulging with packages. They didn't see him, so he set down the book and sat back to watch. This was the moment of truth. He tensed, but they passed him without a glance. Not that they could look at him anyway, seeing as how they carried towers of boxes in their arms.  
  
As Bill stumbled under the weight of the merchandise into the kitchen, Malfoy gliding in behind him with no trouble, Ron heard Mrs. Weasly greet them cheerily and levitate the packages upstairs to Ron's room. And the owner of that room was leaning so far over in his chair to see, that when his mother called for him, he toppled from his precariously balanced seat and onto the floor in an ungraceful heap, startled.  
  
Flushed with embarrassment, he reluctantly slumped into the kitchen, eyes down, hands shoved into his pockets. Without looking up, he could *sense* Malfoy's smug smirk that he had grown so accustomed to over the years. He knew Bill was probably hiding a smile and his mother looking stern. So he raised his eyes.  
  
They instantly locked with the cold steely eyes of Draco Malfoy. He froze and both boys regarded each other warily. Malfoy's eyes darted over Ron's figure as Ron himself slowly took in the sight of his enemy.  
  
Well, they thought in unison, he's changed.  
  
Malfoy had not grown taller, and still looked like a delicate silver nymph. The changes in him that *had* occurred were subtle, but noticeable enough. Like the ever so slight broadening of his graceful shoulders and the shrinking of his already slim waist. Ron's eyes again rose and met the piercing gaze of even colder eyes, which had turned a darker, stormier gray, framed by thick lashes and a small, delicately pointed face. His platinum blonde hair shone pure white in the dim yellow kitchen lights and Ron almost gasped at the permanent pout on his lucious lips.  
  
Ron let his breath out slowly, measuredly, as he saw, with shy self consciousness, the silver eyes roam over him calculatingly, studying him down to the last tiny freckle and shaking detail. The air caught in his throat and his eyes slipped shut. I hate this, he hissed inwardly. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this!  
  
Weasly's grown even more, Draco noticed with slight envy. Not to mention he filled out somewhat in his gawky form. Finally. Though even as lanky as he was, Weasly always remained somehow smooth moving and light on his feet. His skin, dotted with endearing freckles, looked like snow speckled with flecks of bronze. Which only went to set off his blazing brown eyes that opened and burned into Draco's cool glare.  
  
Bill and Mrs. Weasly had left silently as the boys sized each other up. But Mrs. Weasly had not forgotten to leave a reminder above their heads in sparkly pink letters.  
  
"De-gnome the garden and don't kill each other!"  
  
Ron glared at the message scornfully as Malfoy looked on impassively. With an angry huff, he slammed out of the kitchen and into the back garden, overrun with weeds of every shape, size, and color. Malfoy followed him lazily, rolling his eyes. Won't this be fun?  
  
The second Ron's feet touched the long wispy blades of deep green grass, there was a loud sound of little tiny feet scurrying over the ground in a panic. Instinctually, Ron lunged onto one of the little moving masses that Draco had just noticed were there. Ron's long fingers clamped down on the struggling thing's feet and with one mighty swing, he launched the lumpy garden Gnome over the fence. He climbed to his feet and dusted off. The fiery red hair on his head stood up on end and he had taken on the look of a complete maniac.  
  
Malfoy arched a well groomed eyebrow and snorted, unimpressed. Ron glared at him, face reddening. He did NOT need this right now.  
  
Angrily, he stomped away from the slimy blonde git and grabbed another stumpy Gnome, who viciously flipped both boys off when sailing over the fence in mid air with both hands. Purely satisfied, Ron turned back to his unwilling companion.  
  
Suddenly, Malfoy appeared right beside him, same emotionless look on his elegant face. Ron jumped slightly, eliciting a small chuckle from the playful upturned mouth, "I did nothing to rile you up, Weasel. You just need to control your childish temper." Ignoring Ron's livid sputtering, he continued smugly, "Let me show you how it is done."  
  
With lighting quick speed, he whipped out his left hand and in the blink of an eye, held a lump of wriggling warty flesh tight in his grasp. Ron leapt away in surprise with a cry. Malfoy did not even bat an eyelash as he effortlessly tossed the small creature over the fence where it landed with a dull thud in the long grass of the field.  
  
This boy was stronger than he looked.  
  
Openmouthed, Ron watched as Malfoy wiped his hands on his pants and smirked. Then, narrowing his glittering eyes maliciously, he challenged, "Beat that, Weasel."  
  
And so it began. With withering glares, both boys grimaced and shot like rockets around the garden, de-gnoming like they had never de-gnomed before! All dignity, shame, maturity, and sense fled them as their boyish school rivalry blew full swing over them.  
  
An hour later found both of them dirt covered, mud spattered, sweat soaked, and still growling competitively, leaning back to back against each other, legs splayed out over the disturbed ground.  
  
The garden was a wreck and no one had bothered to keep score. But heck, all the gnomes were gone! ^_____^  
  
Needless to say, Mrs. Weasly wasn't too happy when she found them fifteen minutes after they had stopped, slumping back against each other, head resting comfortably on each other's shoulders in exhausted sleep.  
  
But she couldn't bring herself to yell at them. This was probably the only time they would stand to be near each other- touching each other- peacefully. Why not let them stay that way. So, smiling warmly and shaking her head, she went back inside, muttering a spell under her breath. Silently, both boys rose into the air, still in the same position and floated into the house, up the stairs, and into Ron's room and under the covers of his bed.  
  
And there they slept for well over three hours until they woke up and screamed bloody murder at being in bed in each other's arms.  
  
Heh heh heh.  
  
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Malfoy!"  
  
"What the bloody hell do I think *I'm* doing? What about you!"  
  
"This is my bed! Bugger!"  
  
"I can see that perfectly fine, you ungodly lump of worthless skin!"  
  
"Tosser!"  
  
"Wanker!"  
  
"Git!"  
  
"Prat!"  
  
"Weasel!"  
  
"Ferret!"  
  
"Carrot head!"  
  
"Feminine boy!"  
  
Now, do you think they noticed that they still had their arms around each other? No.  
  
"Potty's invisible sidekick!"  
  
"Midget!!"  
  
All sound had come to a sudden and shocking stop. Malfoy had froze. Ron looked a touch triumphant, which faded as Malfoy's face contorted into something horrid and wrong.  
  
"I AM NOT A BLOODY MIDGET YOU WEIRD GIANT........ THINGAMABOB!!" Draco leapt on top of Ron, pinning the taller boy under him and flailing his fists wildly. Ron caught a hand in his mouth and bit down. Draco yowled like wounded cat and spit in Ron's eye. Blinded, Ron flipped Draco over and both boys went pitching over the side of the bed and onto the floor in an ungainly heap of thrashing arms and legs.  
  
Bill, Mrs. Weasly, and Mr. Weasly walked in and froze on the spot. Then, rolling her eyes in exasperation, Mrs. Weasly threw up her arms in defeat and marched out of the room. Mr. Weasly scratched his head thoughtfully and shrugged, "This is all yours, Bill. Have fun." And he left after his wife.  
  
The oldest Weasly crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow critically. Boys will be boys, he reasoned. Then, he peeled a raging midget Malfoy off of his brother and held them apart with his hands. At first, they fought him, snarling and foaming at the mouth, but gradually calmed down. He let them go and Malfoy sniffed his bloodied nose and with the last of his remaining dignity, brushed himself off with a small hand and gave Ron an icy glare. The second to youngest Weasly glared right back, itching to get his hands around that slender throat.....  
  
"Come on you guys! Act reasonably! You're going to be practically brothers for a while, so I suggest you get used to each other," he said, fixing them with a stern look. "Or I'll have to go to extremes."  
  
Draco snorted, still glowering darkly at his taller opponent. Ron sneered right back. Bill sighed, "I'm sorry guys, but I see this isn't going anywhere. Damn, I really didn't want to have to do this." He pulled out his wand and pointed it at them. Then he muttered something unintelligible and the two boys snapped together like magnets. Their mouths fell open and their eyes widened up at Bill. Frantically, they tried to pull themselves apart, but with no luck.   
  
They were stuck fast.  
  
Satisfied, Bill gave them a last sorrowful look and walked out of the room. The boys gawked at the space he had just vacated with complete disbelief written all over their faces.  
  
"This is NOT happening," Ron moaned. "This is inhuman!"  
  
Without looking at him, Draco groaned, "Weasly, I have to go to the bathroom."  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: *snerk!* I completely understand Draccie's pain!! I'm only five foot one and fourteen years old! Half of the damned six graders tower over me. *pouts* Eeyashka.   
  
Anyway, those two, I tell ya. That's just too rich! Hahahahahahaha! Lalalalalalala! Review, review, review! And more will come I assure you! Oh yeah, and don't forget to tell your friends, too! Eep!   
  
THANX TO MamaLaz: I don't know, love, I may be all the crueler for having them meet! *cackles evilly* Lady Victoria: Oh, milady, thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying yourself! Kal: Yup, it surely will be! Promise. LillianaNoelia: *squeals* Oh, you know I just cannot resist pleading eyes! Oy! Thank you ever so much, doll! fangrlwlotsofideas: Oy, I know, I'm such a slow poke! Eep! Kimagure: Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyou!! Belldandy: Heeeerrreee yooouuu ggggooooo, ddeeaarreesstt! Pandora's Aquarium: *eyes grow huge* I love your stories!! OMG! EEEEEE! Anyhoosies- I'm honored, truly! Thank you! Spoop: *hangs head* geez, that's why I failed spelling! ^_^ snow-fox: *falls overwhelmed out of chair* Oy vey! What manners! ^_^ Hope you liked! Lothlorien: Oh, but it can get better, my dear! When they're sleeping in Ron's bed.... TOGETHER! Bwahahahahaaaaaaaaaa*breath*aaaaaaaaa!   
  
~*Villain*~ 


	4. Bathroom Blues

Ron's Worst Nightmare  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Tankees to the frafuvilous fangrwlotsofideas: Thank you! Now, if you have any suggestions..... ^_^ WildfireFriendship: They're so cute when they compete! (Which might I add is all the time! ^_^) J@tnine: I don't do good with 'now' requests. *grin* Hope this suffices, dear. Kimagure: Thanks! But I don't know if I should take Bill further..... Dark Opal: It's ME who isn't rich enough to say a better comeback! *wails woefully* Eep! Thank you! *giggles* MamaLaz: Oh yeah, gotta love that title! *grin grin grin* LillianaNoelia: Eep! YOU, dear, are the one who needs to upload! *laughs* Thank you so much, love. Hana-chan: Hope you like this part enough! as: OH NO!! No charges, please!!! *grins* Thank you! Kat: Thank you very much, I'm honored you think that. ^_^ snow-fox: Eep! Sorry I took so long! Allin Aspire: *terrified squeal* EEEEEEEP! I guess I shall just be honored that you would actually threaten me! Oh, I feel so loved! *_~ goat song: *laughs* You wouldn't believe how bad I do in english! Eep! Jack Flinch: Yes, Jack my love, there will be more! I'm glad you've enjoyed it!  
  
THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!!! *snerk*   
  
Chapter Four: Bathroom Blues  
  
Well, since y'all are dying to know about what happened to the bathroom problem.....  
  
Ron gaped in horror at his companion. Draco didn't meet his eyes.  
  
"Can't you cross your legs or something!"  
  
Draco glared at him indignantly, "No! Dammit, Weasly! I HAVE TO PEE!!" He emphasized this by crossing his legs and jumping around. Ron noticed, annoyed, that he was forced to partly follow Draco around as the other boy jumped.  
  
"Why are you following me, Weasly?"  
  
"Why aren't you going to the bathroom?" Ron arched an eyebrow.  
  
"Oh. Well." Draco shifted uncomfortably. They were connected by the elbow, but that could easily be replaced by the knee or the hips as they found out on their way to the bathroom. It was like they could switch how they were connected whenever, but they always had to stay together. Ron decided that this made it a bit better.  
  
"We can just leave our left foot or something connected and you can do your business as I wait outside the door."  
  
"Alright Weasly, but you'd better not look, or let your brothers look."  
  
Ron glared at him.  
  
It turned that it was an interesting experience for the both of them. Draco had never gone to the bathroom with one leg sticking out the door and balanced precariously on the sink while at the same time taking aim.  
  
And surprisingly, he didn't miss.  
  
Ron had a time of it, his leg sticking painfully in between the crack in the door, struggling to stay upright.  
  
Back in Ron's room and at a loss of what to do, the both of them sat on the edge of Ron's bed, connected by the hands, thinking.  
  
"What did Bill say we had to do, again?" asked Ron. His finger began to itch where it touched Malfoy and it must've been the same for Draco because they simultaneously switched to feet.  
  
Draco shrugged, "I guess until we get used to each other." Their feet began to itch, so they switched to elbows, moving slightly closer.  
  
Ron snorted sarcastically, "Like that'll ever happen."  
  
"Yeah, I know," said Draco, laughing. They paused and glanced at each other shiftily. Then Ron sniffed and Draco crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. They turned away from each other sharply with annoyance. Though due to having their elbows stuck together, they snapped right back around and ended up chest to chest. It was rather uncomfortable and Ron tried to draw away, as did Draco, but they couldn't. The spell had them held fast. Ron cursed as his nose was squashed into Malfoy's, and Draco turned his head away.  
  
"Why can't we switch," he whined. Ron glared at him sideways and he rolled his eyes, "Sorry Weasel, but I don't find this pleasant."  
  
"Neither do I, prat. I don't know why the spell did this, though." He paused, "You don't have to go to the bathroom again do you? It'll be rather difficult."  
  
Malfoy glared at him scathingly and scoffed, "I *can* control my bladder, Weasly. Sorry to shock you, but it's true."  
  
"Shut up! Can't you even try and make this any better? Here we are, stuck together like this and you go off with insulting me!"  
  
"Touche."  
  
"Sod off."  
  
"Make me."  
  
"Trust me, you ugly git, I would if I could."  
  
" 'Ugly git'? Have you looked in a mirror yet, Weasly? Or do you think that looking like an overripe turnip is flattering to you?" Draco shifted around so that they were eye to eye. Ron had gone pink with anger and his ears glowed red.  
  
"Me!? Look at you, you bleached albino!"  
  
Draco smirked, "Ooh, is someone a little racist against albinos, Weasly? Tut tut, and to think your father is so open with muggles. His own son, prejudice..."  
  
"Only against Malfoys, Malfoy."  
  
"Which is just what got us into this mess. Your childish temper against me."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes, "Yeah right. It's all my fault." He reached up and scratched his nose, tickled by Malfoy's breath. Which I might add smelled like mint.  
  
"Well it is. You just had to get all mushy in bed."  
  
"Oh no, don't you go blaming that on me! It's my bed. You just happened to be there."  
  
Feeling mischievous, Draco poked Ron's nose with his own, "*That's* what they all say."  
  
Shocked, Ron drew away sharply, falling over. Draco went right over with him, not being able to help it, and with a small cry, they became even more seriously stuck together.  
  
You can just guess how that turned out. And if you can't- let me tell you then!  
  
Their lips had been crushed together, locked. Arms wrapped around waists to not fall completely off the bed were now clamped tight. Legs stuck whole length. It was like having a full bodied freeze hex on you, except that it was to another person.  
  
Shocked, Ron choked and Draco promptly bit his lip. Ron yowled and nipped back as a reflex.  
  
Draco tried to say something, but he was speaking against Ron's mouth and it was just muffled phrases. So, he stayed silent and glared. And Ron glared back.  
  
/Prat./  
  
Draco blinked. Had Weasly just spoken? But he hadn't moved his lips. Wait, no, he had felt Weasly's voice *inside* his head. Arching an eyebrow, he said mentally, /Weasly?/  
  
Now it was Ron's turn to blink. /Did you just-/  
  
/I guess the spell includes speaking telepathically./ Draco thought about this newest development, weighing whether or not it was good or bad.  
  
/That would be cool, not considering that I only have *you* to tele-talk to. Drat./  
  
Draco rolled his eyes, /Don't even get me started, Weasel./  
  
Changing the subject, Ron groaned against Draco's lips, /How am I suppose to face my family with you on my face!/ He sighed sadly and dropped his eyes to the floor in a defeated look. Draco was beginning to think that this newest development was most definitely bad.  
  
/Well, Weasly, it seems your family will be spared because if you haven't noticed, *I'm* blocking your face. But this is not pleasant for me. And besides, my mouth tickles and the stupid spell won't let us switch./ Their eyes burned into each other's and Ron realized what Malfoy was hinting around.  
  
/Alright/, sighed Ron, /go ahead./  
  
Growling, Malfoy hissed hotly, /I don't need your consent, Weasel. I just wanted to make sure you weren't going to go rabid and bite my lips off./ They glared at each other again before shifted their lips uncertainly against one another's. While they did this, they dropped their eyes and Ron blushed slightly.  
  
But then, Draco felt a slight pressure and looked up. Weasly was pressing his mouth over Draco's and pushing. Though the red head's eyes stayed wide open, Draco got the wrong idea and twisted away.  
  
And their lips came free of each other.  
  
Leaning back, Ron grinned, "I thought that would work." He wiped his mouth and made a face, "Geez, Malfoy! Use enough breath mints? Your mouth tastes like a muggle Altoids. Or a couple thousand." He made gagging sounds and laughed. Draco just stared blankly, leaning back as far as possible from the Gryffindor, though still caught fast.  
  
"Why the hell did you do that," he squeaked. Ron looked up, eyes wide, questioning.  
  
"Well, Malfoy, would you rather have stayed stuck like that.... I mean, stuck kissing?"  
  
Cringing, Draco blanched, "No! But why-"  
  
"Well, think about it. Bill said that of we admitted we could stand each other, the spell would break. Whether or not I truly meant it, a kiss is a kiss, a show of personal affection. So our lips broke apart and I guess the spell was partly satisfied. Look, we can move now." He experimentally pulled his arm and Draco pulled sharply away so that now only their hands were stuck palm to palm.  
  
Blimey, he thought, Weasly was right. But it's gotten really cold all of a sudden. And his lips were tingling oddly......  
  
He dismissed the disturbing thoughts as a pale pink blush rose into his cheeks. He was painfully aware of their hands touching.  
  
Dammit.  
  
Ron yawned, and pulled Draco over, switching to elbows again. He looked around shiftily and glanced back from the corner of his eye shyly. What could you talk about with your enemy besides what a prat they were?  
  
"Weasly, not to bring up a painful subject, but how are we going to sleep?"  
  
"I dibs top!" laughed Ron, trying lamely to relax the tense situation. Draco frowned, not seeing the humor. That wiped the smile from the taller boy's mouth as he cleared his throat.  
  
"I don't know, Malfoy. I guess just.... er, side by side as far away from each other as possible. You don't have a tossing problem do you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Urm, I do. I'm a restless sleeper."  
  
"You just have to make this difficult don't you, Weasly?"  
  
"I can't help it," spat Ron angrily, switching to palms again.  
  
Before they could start another yelling match, Draco interrupted Ron's mad sputtering with a question that had just popped into his head.  
  
"Dressing, showers?"  
  
"Oh bloody God."  
  
Draco winced, "Damn. But I am not going to go around smelling."  
  
Ron growled, whirling on the smaller boy, who flinched, "Why do you turn everything into an insult!"  
  
Weary and, frankly, quite pissed, Draco slammed his fist down onto the pillow, "I didn't! Is it an insult that I don't want to smell up your house?"  
  
"Oh, so you think that I want to smell up my house? Is that it!?"  
  
Draco pursed his lips, "Weasly, you're having a temper tantrum. Calm down and count slowly backwards from ten."  
  
"JUST SHUT UP FOR ONCE!!"  
  
Draco shut up. Much to Ron's surprise, and after a few seconds of silence, he opened his eyes, which had been squeezed shut, to see Draco regarding him with half lidded eyes. He couldn't read the blonde's expression and it unnerved him.  
  
"Stop it. I didn't mean- just talk."  
  
Malfoy smirked, "Does this mean you're sorry?"  
  
"No. It's just that- er." He took a deep breath, "Just never mind, alright Malfoy? I'm going to break this spell if it kills me. Otherwise we might be stuck like this for the whole bloody summer." He held up a hand as Draco opened his mouth to speak, "Don't say anything until I'm done. I will get you away from me, even if it means sleeping in the same cursed bed as you, or taking showers with you. I'm willing to if you are. Harry will be coming soon enough and I doubt you'll want to be stuck around us." Draco's answer was obvious by the look of pure loathing on his face.  
  
"So, Malfoy, are you willing to try and do this with me?" He looked at the other boy sincerely.  
  
Draco blinked, "Alright Weasly." He sighed.  
  
"Okay," said Ron slowly, "I guess we shouldn't talk for a while, incase our natural instinct kicks in and we try to kill each other. I'll tell mum to pop our dinner up here." He rose and Draco rose with him and they walked over to the intercom on the wall. Ron spoke into it.  
  
"Mum, could we-"  
  
"Have your dinner upstairs? Yes, of course, my dears. Bill told me and I think it's a wonderful idea. And if you're wondering, it's safe to walk about. Fred and George are over at Lee's house for awhile." There was a small pop and behind them sat two steaming plates of food.  
  
They sat down, hands still locked together, and raised their glasses in a stiff toast to one another.  
  
A/N: Okay peeps. !!HELP!! I don't know what to do now! I mean, you know that this will be R/D slash, but who shall give in first, hmm? Hell if I know! *lightbulb* Ooh! I know! Let's take a vote! Yeah! Vote whether you want Ron to angst first, or Draco. And if you have any more suggestions, I'm open to them! I'll take anything!! Oy. *snuggle kissies*  
  
~*Villain*~ 


	5. Slobberdigidgem

Ron's Worst Nightmare  
  
  
  
  
A/N: THANX TO as: Hee hee, how can I resist writing a shower scene? *evil grin* Hana-chan: After I wrote this and read your review again, I was shocked to see that I practically followed your storyline to a tee! So... thanks, love! Sly: Here it is, doll! WildfireFriendship: Yes, but it's just so hard to decide! @_@ +++schwarz: *grin* Tanku! fangrlwlotsofideas: Oh, and I love you too, dearest! Showers are such wonderful, places! *kissles* Chhaya: More, comin right up! RyokoXV: Thank you. It *does* seem as if Draccie's in the lead... Illumina: Interesting idea, I may think on it! ^__^ Jack Flinch: It's always such a pleasure to get your reviews, dearest. *huggles* Maria G: Thank you, dawling! Mornie: Eep! I'm flattered you took the risk, love! Thank you ever so much! Kat Sanders: *laughs* Perhaps, perhaps... Nagi ;-) OShaRe: *giggles* Absolutely delicous idea, dear. I'll deffinitely think on it. LillianaNoelia: Oh, thank you thank you! *tear* chimerical: Eep! *laughs* I see the point! Hmmm.   
  
Chapter Five: Slobberdigidgem  
  
Three hours later, after the boys had had an uncomfortable time deciding whether to shower or no, they decided on taking a shower. For they both smelled from running about with the garden Gnomes and getting all dirty.  
  
Undressing was a bit awry, but they did it. The robes were not difficult to get off in the least. They would just change where they were connected when clothing needed to pass over it. And besides, the worst part was still to come.  
  
At first, when Ron turned on the faucet and changed the temperature several times as Draco complained that the water was too hot or cold, it was hard not to punch each other. But when the water hit them and they begun to watch, silence fell like a velvet coverlet over them. All that was heard was the running of the water and the splatter of the liquid hitting their backs and shoulders.   
  
Ron was first to wash his hair, and as he got it wet, Draco took a washcloth and washed himself, then they would trade places and Draco would rinse off as Ron worked the shampoo into his curling red locks.   
  
Draco noticed, grudgingly, that Weasly's hair took on a lustrous blood red when wet. It made him look all the more pale and his light brown freckles almost black in the dim bathroom lights. For some reason he looked willowy and strange to the young Malfoy. But he could not exactly spot what the difference was, seeing as he would only give small glances to the other boy.  
  
He has a nice build, he thought automatically, always the one to examine such things closely as looks. Lean and well muscled. Lanky, but graceful.  
  
Stop looking at him, Ron begged himself. Though it was extremely hard to accomplish. Let's be honest people, Draco possessed a perfect body that most may only dream of. And Ron could not help but slip in an envious glance once in a while as the steam rose around them from the hot water.  
  
Malfoy was small and sleek as an elegant cat. His waist was narrow and shoulders not so broad. He barely reached Ron's shoulder, as the red head had noticed earlier.  
  
But when he snuck a peek for what was meant to be the last time, he found his eyes locked with the swirling stormy grays of Malfoy. They both took to the expression of deer in the headlights of a car and spun hurriedly away, cheeks blazing.   
  
With the sharp movement of their bodies, the finger that connected them came apart and the closest body parts to each other came together and stuck like magical magnets. Which just so happened to be their bums.  
  
Draco squeaked in panic and whirled around, just as Ron spun on his heel, shocked my the personal and unexpected contact. They lost their footing on the slippery tile and Ron pitched clumsily forward as Draco stumbled backwards.  
  
They were up against each other for only a split second, chests rising and falling heavily, eyes wide with surprise as crystalline droplets of water went cascading down their faces and dripped off their adorably clumped lashes. Mouths partly open, lips the slightest bit curved and shaking. And hands....  
  
The boys sprung away from each other in horror. Ron, scarlet, dashed out of the shower and dove for a towel, wrapping himself up in it and trying to cover every inch of exposed skin. Draco was forced to follow after more slowly by their connected fingers with an expression of so many that it remained unreadable. They glanced at each other fleetingly before dropping their eyes. Draco grabbed a towel and wrapped himself up also.  
  
That had been rather eventful.  
  
In Ron's room as the boys got out their pajamas, Ron began to laugh. Draco glared at him and his chuckling freckles, trying desperately to dismiss the urge to laugh along with the other boy. Ron continued to laugh, and it got a total of two chuckles from Draco, who wasn't entirely sure about a Weasly setting eyes on his bodily perfection. And what had Weasly's eyes been on him for? He wanted to know more than he cared to admit to himself, but if he asked, undoubtedly the subject of where his own eyes were aimed would rise.  
  
Maybe he had been looking in all the innocence of another naked body close to his. Or perhaps it was like how his house mates had gazed at him back at school. Longingly, hungrily, possessively. Dangerously lusting. How his father had watched him...... But no, he chided himself, not Weasly, don't think of such things. And he banished the blasphemous from his mind.   
  
Soon enough, they were all ready for bed. Though rather uncomfortable and trying not to look at each other while at the same time trying not to seem nervous.  
  
Ron was dressed in baggy flannel pj pants, black and red checkered, with a white undershirt, and Draco wore boxers and would've gone without a shirt, had Ron not shot him a dark look as all he saw were the boxers donned on the milky white skin.  
  
Draco sighed and sat down on the bed. It was late and he was tired. He needed his beauty sleep and if Weasly was going to be all stubborn and not get in the same bed with him, well then, fine. He tossed his silvery hair and lay down on the very edge of the bed, middle finger stuck fast to Ron's. Yawning and covering his mouth courteously, he shifted his gaze up to Ron's, "Don't be so freaked out Weasly. I won't bite. I want to go to bed. Not exactly with you, but I have no choice and neither do you. I'm not pleasant in the morning-"  
  
"Or any other time for that matter," Ron pointed out moodily.  
  
"-least of all if I don't get any sleep," finished Draco scathingly, glaring at the taller boy, who grinned tiredly back.  
  
"Are you begging me to get into bed with you? Oh, this ought to be good."  
  
Draco rolled his eyes, "Keep dreaming Weasly." Sighing in exasperation, he shot one last dark look at Ron and turned off the lamp.  
  
"Hey," said Ron, "I can't see anything!"  
  
"Well, it *is* pitch black Weasly. And it seems that the carrots miss benefitting your eyesight and go straight to your head instead."  
  
"Shut up and turn the lamp back on."  
  
"You wouldn't get into bed like a nice little boy, so you can turn on the damn lamp yourself," chortled Draco happily, laying back on the long white pillow, smugly smiling into the darkness.  
  
Ron complied, grumbling and taking Draco's arm around the bed with him, trying to make his way to the lamp. Unfortunately, his room was not very clean and he tripped over several objects, cursing.  
  
"Ouch! Malfoy, you are such a blasted bas- ow!!"  
  
"You know Weasly," Draco drawled haughtily, "there really isn't a point to turning on the lamp. You'll only have to turn it off again in a few seconds. Now why don't you just climb in bed, staying on your respectable side, and save us both some trouble."  
  
There was a silence for about two seconds before Ron swore and started back over to the other side of the bed again, muttering to himself. Draco held back laughing, picture the lanky youth stumbling around, still connected to him by their fingers. He played with the idea of dumping Weasly off his feet with a yank of his hand. After a moment of thought, he did just that. With a small jerk, Ron miss stepped and tripped over his pant leg, ending up sprawled over the bed, though his fist was shoved in Draco's mouth.  
  
Draco yelled, muffled by the hand, and bit down. Ron yelped and yanked his hand away from the nipping boy.  
  
"What was that for, you impudent twit," hissed Malfoy dangerously, gripping Ron's elbow harshly. Ron traded to touching fingers again before replying, "You started this one, Malfoy."  
  
Now that they were lying down, both were overcome with a strong sense of each other's close presence. Each scooted quickly over to the opposite sides of the bed, connected now by pointer fingers. But after a short while, they began to itch and had to switch from hands to feet.  
  
"God, Weasly, not feet. It tickles," whined Draco, annoyed and sounding an awful lot like an irritated Percy. He missed his mistake and only realized it too late. Ron grinned evilly.  
  
"You're ticklish then?"  
  
"Don't even think about it."  
  
"And why not?"  
  
Draco was aware of Weasly's foot moving over his leg. It was extremely light and bothersome. He squirmed, "Stop it."  
  
Ron giggled with glee like a little girl, "No way! You let something slip Malfoy, and you're gonna pay!"  
  
"You know," coughed out Draco between stifled giggles, "some may think you were trying to grope me, Weasly."  
  
The tickling did not slow, "Stop trying to get out of it! I found you're weakness!"  
  
"This is not- ha ha- my weakness- hee hee!" He was gasping now as Ron had found his stomach and was mercilessly tickling him to the point of turning purple.  
  
In a vain attempt to stop the red head, Draco twisted around, rolling back, but Ron wouldn't abate and shot forward to get under Draco's chin. Unfortunately, due the dark and sightlessness, this caused them to bump up against each other yet again. Frantically, Draco tried to pull away. But to no avail.  
  
"Dammit, we're stuck again!"  
  
"Mrrrmph," Ron stated clearly. His mouth was at the moment full of Draco's hair. He drew his head back and spit it out.  
  
Draco was pushed back against Ron, and the red head was cradling the smaller boy gently in his arms. Their bodies were fit together perfectly and Ron's arms were around Draco, now frozen in the act of tickling him.  
  
"Well, Weasly, how are we going to get out of this one? Because you sure as hell can't kiss me from where you are. And if any of your family finds us like this-"  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy, I'm thinking."  
  
"Oh, you're thinking. That makes me feel better," he spat sarcastically, leaning his head back onto Ron's shoulder and glaring at the other boy in the dark.  
  
Ron groaned, "It had to be you who I get stuck with."  
  
"Most people would kill to be in your position," Draco declared defensively.  
  
"I bet."  
  
"Don't be sarcastic, git. It's true."  
  
They paused for a long while. Neither of them knew what to say to the other. Yes, they were angry, as was the first instinct they had around each other, but in their current position, anger was not exactly the solution.  
  
Thinking to make the best of it, Ron stuttered out the first lame thing that came to mind, hoping to disband the tenseness between them, "So, I- I never really got the idea as to why you had to come here in the first place." He could almost feel the room's temperature drop as Draco replied frostily, "My father."  
  
Again, they remained silent. Draco thought about how it felt to be in Weasly's arms like this. It wasn't repulsive or disgusting as he had thought it would be. Rather, it was comforting in the darkness and the cold. Even if it *was* Weasly's embrace, the feeling of someone holding him felt safe. His father never embraced him. Well, not in a loving way. His mother tried to, but he did not love her. He pitied her, but there was no love between them. There was nothing between them in fact. Narcissa Malfoy and her son were alienated from each other. At least with Lucius, he had a burning hatred to feel for the man. That was something.  
  
And now he was laying in the embrace of an enemy, feeling security. He wondered vaguely how Weasly was feeling now, holding him like this. Draco shut his eyes and relaxed, weariness taking over. Why worry about it now? He was tired.  
  
Is he falling asleep? Ron wondered, feeling Malfoy go slack in his arms. He had thought the prat would be going on and on about how miserable it was to be touching a Weasly. But no, he remained quiet. And Ron did not wake him up as he heard Malfoy's breathing gain a steady rhythm. The pale boy was asleep.  
  
So what lay behind those icy eyes? What had made Draco hate his father so much in the first place? Ron wasn't sure he wanted to know these things, but in the silent time he held the small and trembling form in his arms, he felt somewhat connected to Malfoy in a way he could not explain. Maybe there was a good reason for Draco to be holed up in a shell of hardened emotions. Perhaps, perhaps he should try and talk to him. But not now, not as he slept so peacefully.  
  
Ron could imagine what Malfoy looked like, lying there, his eyes closed, delicate eye lashes brushing the soft pallor of his smooth skin. Mouth quiet and curved up into a relaxed smile of rest.  
  
He felt his own eyelids growing heavier. And right before he fell into the oblivion of sleep, he felt the connection between himself and Malfoy leave completely. The small boy whimpered slightly and moved back against him, cuddling up to his chest. The connection spell was no longer working. They needn't be touching any more. Ron felt a mixture of feelings as a lock of Angel hair brushed his lips and Draco muttered in his sleep. Yes, the spell was broken.  
  
But he did not let go.  
  
A/N: Okay peoples! THIS IS NOT THE END!!! Geez. *grins* Harry and Mione haven't arrived yet! Golly!  
  
~*Villain*~ 


	6. A Truce of Sorts

Ron's Worst Nightmare  
  
  
  
  
A/N: This chap contains Brittany Bashing. So I shall just warn you now, my pretties. Mwahaha!  
  
THANKS TO Chimarical: *laughs* WELL, we deffinitely know where your vote lies then! WildfireFriendship: Thank you, love. I will be writing more till the very end! *_~ melodie: Thank you, dearie. *grins* Hana-chan: Glad you're happy with the "subtle" shower seen! ^_^ +shwarz: I know! Aren't people who like D/H, but not R/D nutsos? fangrlwlotsofideas: Eep! *kissles* Goldbryn the Aliem Frog: *beams* Thank you, thank you! Jack Flinch: Thank you, dearest. *kiss* Polaris: Aw, shucks! Fauna: You know, Draccie poosles *was* made for this! And Snape (if I remember) will try and make a cameo. LillianaNoelia: *rushes as fast as can to write* You HAVE to update! Noooooo! (*_~) Hee. J@nine: Snogging? What snogging is this? Hee, j/k. Snogging will be coming up soon, love! Eriol: Thank you so much, I'm flattered. THANKS TO YOU ALL!! YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL!! AARGH!   
  
Chapter Six: A Truce of Sorts  
  
Draco woke up nestled blissfully in Ron's warm embrace. He blinked then shut his eyes again, not wanting to face the sun just yet, only to stay here forever.... But he couldn't do that and his stomach was grumbling anyway. So, rubbing his eyes groggily and yawning, he sat up and looked back down at Weasly, who lay there sleeping as innocently as a new born babe. Draco smiled as Ron rolled over, murmuring sweet nothings quietly. Somehow though, something was different. What was it? He swung his legs over the bed side away from Weasly. Wait. Away from Weasly?  
  
The spell!  
  
At that moment Ron stirred and opened his tired eyes to gaze up at Draco sleepily. The Slytherin gazed right back, eyes wide and turning with veins of silvery light and tiny flecks of white from the sun. Ron realized that Malfoy had noticed their divide and swore inwardly. It was not especially good to have Malfoy wake up in his arms was it? Oy, that probably needed some explaining to it. He winced as Draco turned to fully face him, his hair ruffled, mouth partly open. The blonde was the perfect picture of angelic innocence.  
  
"So, what does this mean then, Weasly?"  
  
Ron looked back at him, mirroring the blonde's look of bashful wonderment. He didn't know what it meant for the life of him, but it meant *something*. It had to, for he felt it happen last night when the spell broke, a small tinge in his chest.  
  
"I don't know. Do you- do you remember last night? I mean, what happened?"  
  
Draco shifted uncomfortably, "I know I mentioned my father. Then fell asleep.... in your arms. But-" He faltered, looking inquisitively at Ron, who looked like he was concentrating very hard on something. He arched a white eyebrow and crossed his arms.  
  
Ron growled angrily and gripped the sides of his head, "My brain hurts! Summer really isn't meant for contemplating difficult situations. Aaurgh." He grinned sheepishly up at Malfoy.  
  
Now, several biting insults spun about his head and tumbled down into his mouth, trembling on the tip of his tongue. But for some strange and bazaar reason, he swallowed them right back up. It just didn't seem right to do at the moment and he was shocked at the realization. Many times before at Hogwarts he had been lectured on "thinking before you speak". Always he thought it much too petty and thoughtful for his precious time. A waste. Yet here he was, holding back the insults on his most hated enemy. Hated? He just didn't know as he perfunctorily smiled back at Weasly.  
  
Ron's expression froze. Malfoy was smiling. At him. At something he, Ronald Weasly, had said. Quickly, he pinched himself.  
  
"Ouch!"  
  
Draco's smile fell, "Why did you do that?"  
  
"You're smiling at me."  
  
Malfoy glared at him, offended, "Yeah?"  
  
"Well, it just seems a little odd for you to do. That's all. I didn't really mean anything by it, just... Well." He sat up and scratched his head, "You hungry?"  
  
Before Draco could even open his mouth, his stomach gurgled loudly. Ron laughed, "I'll take that as a yes. C'mon, I smell eggs and bacon."  
  
Downstairs, their places were already set. As far from each other as possible. Ginny looked up warily from her food and glowered darkly at the silver haired boy following her brother into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasly smiled at them pleasantly, "Good morning, dears. Bill had told me the spell was broken, sit down now. Eat up."  
  
They obeyed and sat, trading looks across the table. Ginny was still glaring at Draco, when he turned to her and blinked. Flushing furiously, she ducked her head and shoveled eggs into her mouth, cleaning the plate in an instant and dashing from the table in a rush. He watched her leave with amusement dancing in his eyes.   
  
Ron looked at him brightly, taking a drink of his orange juice, "We'll have to go de gnoming again, eh Mum?" He grinned at Draco, who gave him a wry smile in return, winking. Mrs. Weasly beamed at them as she answered her son, "Most certainly, young man. Then you can go out and play Quidditch if you like. You can use the twin's brooms."  
  
As they ate, both boys would constantly look up and lock eyes for a fleeting second, then look hurriedly back down in confusion. It felt so strange to be apart after having to be stuck together like that. And Draco felt like a piece of him was gone, kind of empty. Ron felt the same but neither said anything about it. For neither knew what terms they stood on yet.  
  
There were hardly any gnomes at all in the weedy garden and after throwing just a few nasty little buggers over the fence, Ron showed Draco to the shed where they kept the brooms, as well as Mr. Weasly's aprehended muggle objects.  
  
"This is interesting," said Draco, holding up a Brittany Spears doll. Ron shuddered and Draco burst out laughing as he touched the dolls face, "Bloody Mary, she has Tarantula eyes!"  
  
Ron blanched and took a couple of steps away from the doll. Draco looked at him questioningly before throwing the doll into the pile he had grabbed it from, "No need to be scared, Weasly. I know it's hideously ugly beyond imagination, but it's only a doll. Just think, there's the real thing still out there, living and brainwashing poor little girls." Ron just shook his head and grabbed the brooms.  
  
They moved for the door, Draco still looking interestedly about, when Ron screeched and leapt about ten feet into the air, hurtling himself backwards into Draco, who clumsily caught the red head and stumbled back. On the door sat a huge and hungry looking Hobo spider. It was sitting on it's web, contentedly spinning a fly. As Draco scanned the whole door, he noticed several others. Just little spiders. But Ron was really freaking out, his arms thrown around Draco's neck tightly and actually up and cupped in Draco arms like a damsel in distress in the arms of a knight.  
  
Surprisingly, he was quite light and Draco had no trouble holding him there, it was just rather odd of the Gryffindor to act so strange around several little spiders.  
  
Gradually, as the spiders sat there, Ron let himself down out of Draco's hold and ran around behind the shorter boy, clinging to his robes.  
  
"Ooh, kill them! Please Malfoy, just squish them or something! Gaa!"  
  
Draco's mouth dropped. Of course, he had forgotten Weasly's violent fear of spiders. He rolled his eyes, casually walking up to the arachnids and shooing them with gentle hands off the door. They were just tiny things and he didn't feel like squishing them. After all, they had done nothing wrong. And they crawled away without any fuss. He even caught a few earwigs and stuck them in the webs for the little guys.  
  
After Ron made him check the door about five times for any more spiders, he opened it and they went outside. Ron was clutching the brooms to his chest and breathing hard like he had just been....  
  
"Screw those spiders," he snapped angrily. Draco raised his eyebrows, staying silent as he was handed a broom. It was definitely an old model, but he kept his mouth shut. Weasly looked awfully peeved at the moment. Who knew that our friendly eight eyed friends would have such an effect on a boy of Ron's age and stature.  
  
They went out into the wide field next to the Weasly's house. Ron went over to a crudely made goal post and looked inside a trash can marked QUIDDITCH GEAR. When he looked inside, he swore and kicked at the can. It rung sharply into the still air and Draco guessed immediately what had happened even as Ron spat the cursed word, "Gnomes!"  
  
"We can just fly," suggested Draco. He hadn't flown in so long. His father had taken away his broom after he told him that he wasn't sure about becoming a Death Eater. Lucius had been so angry with him then. He shuddered and shut his eyes tightly at the memory, knuckles turning white over his grip on the broom handle.  
  
Ron, seeing Draco's features contract into a look of distant pain, forgot his own anger and approached the other boy in concern. Draco opened his eyes and looked at him measuredly. Ron immediately backed off, almost sensing Malfoy's repose to the subject of which had made him shiver. Wordlessly, the red head nodded and mounted his broom. Draco followed and they kicked off together.  
  
To be flying again hit Draco like a shot of pure life energy. His sprit soured along with the wind whipping through his hair and cloak. For a fleeting moment, he closed his eyes again, the stinging wind drawing tears from his eyes and causing the tears to slide in tiny rivulets down his cheeks. He opened them to see Ron flying almost right beside him. The other wizard looked as happy as he did to be so high up in the air, flashing past trees and over houses and yards. Streaks of moonbeam and fire.  
  
Ahead there was a huge cloud bank and at the same moment, they locked eyes and grinned, kicking forward and diving full tilt into the white world of condensed air.  
  
As they burst out the other side, mist swirling around them in tendrils of glittering water droplets, Draco laughed out loud. He swung around and skimmed the side of the massive form, dipping his hand into the fluffy whiteness and soaking the skin. His hair and clothes clung to him and he shook his head as Ron ripped out of the cloud right in front of him.   
  
Weasly's hair was like it had been in the shower, slicked back and only a few loose curls flying free. Draco could see every line in the taller boy's back and the muscles turning beneath the freckled as he moved on his broom to switch direction. His black robes sat as a second skin over his body.  
  
The two boys weaved in and out of the cloud for another few minutes before Ron yelled over the rushing wind that Draco's lips were blue. Amusement dancing in his eyes, Draco called back that Ron's ears were maroon. Ron gagged. He hated maroon!  
  
They alighted in a small clearing beside a bubbling brook in the small forest between the houses. The stream sang along the rocks and Draco set the broom against a tree and looked at his reflection in a still pool outside the current. He looked very cold and very wet. The sunlight shone on his drenched hair, turning it into a molten silver. Ron came up beside him, wringing out his robes and muttering. He caught sight of his reflection and squeaked, "Eep! I'll be a fuzz ball by lunch!" Running his hands stressfully over his hair, already frizzing out dangerously, he sat down, long legs splayed out in front of him, pouting irrisistably with his lower lip jutted out deliciously.  
  
Draco looked at his own hair and rubbed his palms over it, shaking out the moister. When he was satisfied, it stood out in all directions in a style that most boys took hours trying to perfect with gallons and gallons of gel. He smiled and turned back to Weasly.  
  
And instantly fell to the ground in fits of howling laughter.  
  
Ron huffed grumpily and tried desperately to cover his head. Well, to cover his bright orange afro to be precise. For it was true, standing out from his head on a curly ball of seventies style fluff. Oh, so ever groovy baby!  
  
"At least I don't look like some pretty boy punk," he growled, patting his head and glaring at the offensive boy still rolling on the ground and wheezing with mirth. And at his words, Draco only laughed harder, his face flushing to a deep pink and staining his cheeks a rosy red. It clashed horribly with his fading blue lips and Ron himself began to laugh.  
  
Sitting up and trying to wipe the wet dirt from his robes, Draco shook his head at the blaring ball of Weasly red. His lips had gone back to their pale pink and cheeks were now back to their normal pallor. Ron though, was red with frustration and still tried valiantly to flatten his hair out. Draco rolled his eyes, "Let me do it, Weasly." He sauntered over and tipped Ron's face upwards, pressing his hand against the middle of Ron's head. He managed to flatten a row, straight down the middle, of Ron's hair before the red headed disco ball shook him off. "You're only making it worse! Oh GOD!"  
  
As he looked with a horrified expression into the swirling water, Draco shrugged. Ron now looked like he had a backwards mohawk. Or perhaps Larry of the Three Stooges.   
Whichever it was, it looked funnier than before. But Draco held back his laughter when Ron dipped his hands into the pool and threw three fistfuls of water over the failed hairstylist. Then the red head ducked as a huge pine cone was aimed at his head.  
  
Ron grinned cockily, "You miss-" But was suddenly cut off as Draco tackled him backwards with giggles and they were both pitched back into the water. Feeling his hair, Ron sighed, "Well then, that's better!"  
  
Starting to strip off his robes as Ron felt his hair, Draco set them on the bank to dry. Then, clad only in his boxers, he dove under the water and snuck up behind Ron.  
  
"Hmm, good idea, Malfoy, I'll put mine out, too. Malfoy? Where are- Yikes!!!" Ron leapt out of the water with a frantic squeak as Draco resurfaced, giggling like a school girl. Ron glared at him without much conviction and rubbed his bum where Draco had mercilessly pinched it.  
  
Smirking, Ron said levelly, "Now who's trying to grope who, eh Malfoy?" But Draco only grinned and suck halfway into the water so that only the upper part of his face was showing, daring Ron to come and play.  
  
Stripping down the rest of the way to his undergarments, Ron dove into the water with a whoop and the splashing fight began.  
  
Hours later, dry and tanning, Draco began humming to himself as Ron switched to lying on his back. His skin had darkened partly and now Ron was a nice crisp golden brown as Draco had slightly darkened to what would be a normal tint of someone's complexion in the dead of winter.  
  
Ron squinted up into the blazing sun and covered his eyes, "I wish the sun wasn't so damned bright."  
  
"Actually it doesn't have to be," said Draco, rolling partly over and reaching over to the pile of his clothes and into his robe pockets, pulling out his wand. Then he pointed it at his eyes and murmured, "Glanate." He blinked and his eyes moistened with tears, but he was looking around without squinting. "It's like a spell for muggle sunglasses. But it only lasts for about two hours or so." Ron let him perform the spell on his eyes, and then leaned back, sighing.  
  
They lapsed back into silence and Draco picked a long blade of grass and stuck it in his mouth, chewing on the end. Ron rolled over again onto his stomach, resting his head on his folded arms. Draco glanced at him sideways, the blade of grass bending gently in the warm breeze. Ron looked back and met his companions gaze measuredly. Then Draco turned his head and shut his eyes, settling down next to Ron on his back.  
  
Ron watched him a moment longer before turning over on his own back. Then he looked over at Malfoy again and noticed something that sent chills down his spine on the blonde boy's arm.  
  
"When did you get that?" he whispered, pointing at the Dark Mark standing out on Malfoy's skin like a star against the clear night sky. Draco looked down at it and said flippantly, "My dad just wouldn't accept my decision not to become what he is: A Death Eater." He looked over at Ron, leaning up on his elbow and turning his whole body on its side. Ron looked away, uncomfortable with his straightforwardness, "Oh."  
  
"It's nothing to be afraid of, Weasly."  
  
Now the mild brown eyes rose, "I'm not afraid. It's just how you talk about it, to be honest."  
  
That delicate brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"  
  
Ron suddenly looked shifty, "I don't know, like it's no big deal. Yeah, my dad marked me as a Death Eater, but you know, that's okay." He gave at sad smile and Draco frowned, "I don't sound like that."  
  
"Yeah, you do. Does it even bother you at all? Or can you just hide your emotions?" He peered closely at Draco, as if trying to see through him. Draco leaned back, glaring, "Maybe it's that *you* show too much of your emotions."  
  
"Is that bad?" Ron leaned back again, "I mean, when you're just impassive all the time, no one can tell what you're thinking and whether you mean what you say or not."  
  
"I'm impassive," said Draco scoffingly. Ron nodded, "You are! The only emotion you have ever shown for as long as I've known you is spite."  
  
"Maybe that is all I feel."  
  
"No, that's not true," Ron shook his head, "I know that's not it."  
  
Silver eyes narrowed, "How would you know anyway, Weasly?"  
  
Ron blushed slightly, "Last night." He said it as if it explained everything. And it did as Draco thought about it.  
  
"Well, I can't help but be the way I am," shrugged Draco nonchalantly, watching the Gryffindor interestedly.  
  
"Yeah, but maybe if you showed more, than people wouldn't always think you so cold." Ron gazed straight into his eyes now, sincerely. Draco suddenly felt disgusted with the big hearted Gryffindor trying to solve all his problems for him.  
  
"Why do you even care! My problems are my own, I don't need pity from some Gryffindor," he hissed. But his expression immediately softened as Ron took on a hurt look. Maybe he does care, he thought with surprise.  
  
"Look, Weasly, I'm just not used to people being so nice to me," he said quietly with some difficulty. "I've always been told to hide everything from everyone. Emotion is for the weak."  
  
Ron bit his lip, "Is that what your dad told you?"  
  
Draco's face clouded over, "Yes."  
  
Facing the Slytherin fully, Ron looked at him hard, "Why do you hate him so much, Malfoy? What did he do?"  
  
The woods seemed to have silenced around them. Even the brook had gone quiet. Their gazes were locked and Ron could see so many emotions flickering through the mercury depths of Draco's eyes. Hatred, rage, fear, distrust, anger, loss. But he did not look away, he must know.  
  
"My father is a heartless bastard who will destroy anything or anyone who is in his path to power. To him, I'm just a tool. Just a tool for his own ends." He unconsciously gripped his stomach as his eyes went slightly misty, "You really don't want to know, Weasly."  
  
Taking the hint, Ron backed off. They were quiet for what seemed like an eternity, before Draco clicked out of his reverie and and said, "So, what do you mean by last night? The whole more than spite thing. What did you mean?" He met Ron's gaze bashfully and for the first time, Ron felt that he was on the same level as Ma- Draco. No one was better, they were just two young boys dealing with the issues of growing up. They both had their fears, their loves, their problems. And perhaps, in each other, they could find solace.  
  
Ron wasn't sure where all these feelings were coming from, but he answered Draco with more confidence than he felt on the subject, "When we fell asleep- together- you didn't hate me then. I didn't feel it. And besides, that's when the spell broke. We felt fine with each other. Close to each other." Wait a minute, where did that last line come from?  
  
Draco's eyes had gone large and he looked the innocent Angel again. He was watching Ron with his breath held. What was Weasly getting at?  
  
"And, look at us now! I mean, we haven't really fought all day. Think about it." Draco did, and Ron was right.  
  
To the surprise of the both of them, Draco actually smiled at Ron and said, "You're right, Weasly."  
  
Ron beamed and then went solemn and asked meekly, "Do you hate me, still?"  
  
Draco's brow furrowed and he thought a moment. Then, seeing Ron's face, he shrugged, "No, I don't. I'm not sure I ever did now that I think about it."  
  
Ron sighed with relief, then looked back questioningly, "Than why?"  
  
"Some other time, Weasly. Isn't it enough that you have me smiling!? Think of what that does to my rep!"  
  
Ron grinned, "What's wrong with that? You look better when you smile anyway." He lay back, not quite realizing what he said, and closed his eyes. Draco watched him for a few moments longer, thinking, then settled back beside his..... what? Friend? No. Not yet. Or maybe he should just ask. They were being awfully honest with each other, why not?   
  
He looked at Ron again. No, not yet. Why make this uncomfortable again for the both of them? So he just lay back beside his.... companion, and fell into a light slumber.  
  
"Malfoy, Malfoy!"  
  
"Mrrrmph."  
  
Ron laughed and poked Draco in the ribs. The Slytherin curled up in a ball and nipped at the giggling Gryffindor's fingers, "No, no tickling."  
  
"Aw, you're no fun. But anyway, we need to start back or mum will think we killed each other."  
  
"I just might, Weasly, if you don't stop bloody poking me!"  
  
"Then get up, or the poking ensues."  
  
"You are such a git."  
  
"That's an understatement."  
  
Draco peaked open one eye to see Ron fully clothed and sitting cross-legged next to him, poking him with his finger in the side. Which tickled terribly. And with wonderful self control, Draco kept from giggling insanely and pinwheeling his arms in a helpless defense.  
  
"Glad you've realized it, too. Now sod off before I dump you in the stream and give you another afro." With that, Ron stood up and tossed Draco's clothes to him, chuckling, "Well, *somebody's* a morning person!"  
  
"It's after noon. And besides, like I told you last night, Weasly, I am not a morning person."  
  
"Grumpy, grumpy grumpy!" sang Ron happily, grabbing Draco's arms and dragging him to his feet.  
  
"Sod off, sod off, sod off!" Draco wrenched away from the taller boy and immediately collapsed in a heap on the ground, still considerably tired. Ron sighed and sat on his broom, levitating a few feet in the air.  
  
When Draco had finally gotten dressed and mounted his broom, he was fully awake and a note happier than before.  
  
They had a race back to the house, which Draco won. Then he had to put the brooms back in the shed, for Ron refused to go near it, and then they headed back up to Ron's bedroom.  
  
"Might as well changed out of these grubby clothes," said Ron, trying in vain to wipe the clods of dirt off. Draco nodded and they stripped.  
  
"Now, where are my underwear?" asked Draco inquiringly with hands on hips. He stood in the middle of the room in his boxers, looking around. Ron watched him from the bed with amusement and the Slytherin caught the glint of mischief in the eyes of the Gryffindor and growled, "Weasly, give back my underwear!"  
  
Ron clutched the underwear and danced gleefully out of the small boy's reach. Draco rolled his eyes and lunged at them as the mischievous red head dangled them before his nose.  
  
"Damn you, Weasly! Never EVER get between a man and his underpants. Or there'll be Hell to pay! Because that is just too close for my taste!" He tackled Ron and grabbed the underwear. They had a small tug of war, until Draco finally wrenched them from Ron's grasp, beaming triumphantly.  
  
"Ha! Now I have you grinning! Yay for me!" Ron bounced around excitedly, clapping his hands. Draco just laughed and shook his head, looking at his underwear. Then the grin was wiped off his face as he screeched in horror, "You stretched my *Calvin Klien* undies! Oy, you're going to get it for this, Weasly!" Before Ron had a chance to run, the boxer clad Slytherin shot at him, a streak of silver lighting.  
  
In an instant they were wrestling on the bed, mercilessly tickling each other until Ron called uncle.  
  
Draco sat back, smirking with smugness. Then he changed into his clean- if somewhat bigger- underwear and robes. Ron still lay on the bed, gasping for breath and laughing. Then, he sat up brightly and stated matter o' factly, "You know, Malfoy, it's not so bad having you around. You should act like this at school. Everyone would get such a kick out of it."  
  
At the mention of Hogwarts, Draco frowned and Ron caught it, looking concerned, "What's wrong?"  
  
Groaning, Draco sat on the bed beside him, "What am I supposed to do back at school? Everyone in Slytherin will accuse me of being a traitor. Which I am really, to my bloodline." He ignored Ron's indignant snort and continued, "Plus, several of the loyals will have plots to kill me no doubt. Or take me back to my father." Again, at the mention of his father, his face darkened and a mournful tone took his voice. Ron wanted to somehow comfort him, but did not know how.  
  
They got quiet, as they always did when Lucius Malfoy was mentioned. Draco got up and walked over to the window, leaning heavily on the sill and gazing fixedly over the expanse of the fields beyond the yard. He looked suddenly older, sadder, and lonely. Making up his mind, Ron hopped up joined him at the window, "Do you want to talk about it? You can trust me, you know."  
  
Draco turned slightly and regarded him indifferently, "Can I?"  
  
"Yes," said Ron with passion. But Draco just turned back to look out of the window and Ron knew that nothing would be shared.  
  
That night, in bed, in the dark, Draco turned to Ron and asked what happened last night.  
  
"I don't know. But," he hesitated, "it feels kinda weird. Not being connected." He waited tensely for Draco's reply.  
  
"Yeah." It was faint, but it was there and Ron smiled, obviously relieved.  
  
Ron was the first to fall asleep this night and Draco was glad of it. He pictured the Gryffindor lying there, pale strawberry blonde lashes tracing tiny shadows over his freckle powdered cheeks. The fiery red hair settled messily about his head in a scarlet halo and pink lips pursed slightly with sleep.  
  
His own eyelids grew heavy and Draco drifted off into the land of dreams. And as the full moon rose in all it's silvery brilliance over the slumbering wizards, both bodies moved closer, fitting perfectly, seeking the connection that had been lost. They both settled down and a small sigh slipped past Draco's lips as he snuggled down into Ron's arms and the red head drew them up around the slim figure.  
  
And the only witness was the starry eyed man in the moon.   
  
A/N: Okay peeps, how am I handling this? Are they taking long enough? Too long? I just would like your pov on how this is going. No, not the concept- we all love that- but I mean the time, the attitudes, ect. Thanx, it would really mean a lot to me. *huggles*  
  
~*Villain*~ 


	7. Ramone Seeks Revenge!

Ron's Worst Nightmare  
  
  
  
  
A/N: THANX EVER SO MUCH TO... *trumpet fanfare* Piri Lupin-Snape: Ooh! I feel so loved! Chhaya: Thank you, really. *blush* bettyboop: All right! Here you go then! Merelyn25: Yeah, I'm well aware of my spelling problem. =P ailstar: I love that line, too. Tankiis! LillianaNoelia: Oh, your reviews just brighten up my day, love! Hana-chan: Oops, this chaps a bit sappy. Eep! Mus4u: Gaa! I'm beginning to think that no one will be happy with this chap! Leigh Kearu: Fee hee, tanku! aishidao: Gee, I hope you like this next chapter enough. *looks nervous* WildfireFriendship: Spiders are so ickerpoo! Robert D: 'ello love! No, Ronnikins has no girlfriend. I'm trying to establish whether he was knowingly gay before or just confused. Hum. li3: Thank you. ^_^ Dark Angel of Sin: *grin grin grin* chimerical: No, thank YOU, dearie! Psykiapa: Hee, hope you like this chappie! THANK YOU ALL!! Wheeeeee!  
  
Chapter Seven: Ramone Seeks Revenge!  
  
"Weasly! Can you be any bloody slower? Maria just told Antonio that he loved her." Draco winced as he heard a crash in the kitchen. A second later, Ron came hurtling out of the other room, two bowls of buttery popcorn clutched in his hands. He vaulted gracelessly over the couch and landed next to Draco, who gripped the arm of the couch tightly so as not to be catapulted off. Taking the bowl gratefully from the lanky youth, the Slytherin fixed his eyes on the screen as Maria Martinez of "Spicy Tacos at Midnight" leaned into a passionate kiss with Antonio, her lover on the show.  
  
It was a week after Draco and Ron had woken again in each other's embrace. That morning had been slightly tense, but they chose to dismiss it, and for nights after, slept the same way. For the boys had made a truce of sorts between each other. And now it was Tuesday night. Spanish soaps night.  
  
The boys eyes remained glued on the screen as Antonio slipped down the see-through nightgown over Maria's shoulders. Ron and Draco sat, shoulders touching. They had still not quite gotten used to being separated, and many times touched without really being aware of it. It bothered them not, and life went on. Draco was assigned chores by Mrs. Weasly and the Ministry had sent agents to check up on the young Malfoy occasionally. No news had been heard on his father, who had gone into hiding.  
  
"Oh! Antonio, my love. How could I have ever thought to love that beast...... that beast Ramone!" Dramatic music blared as the two Mexican Wizards clutched at each other. Draco sniffled and Ron handed him a tissue box, dabbing his own eyes with his sleeve. The camera zoomed in to Antonio's hand, which was lazily making it's way down Maria's back. The woman moaned and gasped his named as the hand gripped and squeezed the flesh of her rather voluptuous Spanish bottom. Ron blew his nose as Maria wept into Antonio's shoulder, cursing her husband Ramone.  
  
Then the music changed and both Ron and Draco jumped, grabbing onto each other, dropping the bowls of popcorn. Draco gasped, "It's Ramone in the window! Oh no! Maria, run, run!"  
  
Ron squealed, "No, no! He's got a knife! Antonio! Consiga lejos! Ack!"  
  
Ramone stalked closer and closer to the still embracing couple. The knife was raised high above them, glinting in Laluna's light. It came down and the viewer was able to hear the slow wail of Maria. Draco sobbed and Ron swore fluently in Spanish. Antonio was doing the same, just as Maria was sobbing herself. Ramone stood over both of them, laughing.  
  
Then the screen faded and the music returned full force. Text raced across the scene: Would Maria live? Will Ramone take her back to Mexico? What will Antonio do? And what about the kiss Antonio and Ramone had shared a year before? DUN-DUN-DUUUNNN!   
  
"Si! Si, we want to know, dammit!" But the show was over and Draco leaned forward and shut the telly off. They sighed, wiping their eyes. Draco groaned, "Maria's a slut anyway. I say Antonio should elope with Rosa."  
  
Ron shook his head, "Are you mad!? Antonio should die and Ramone should go with Pablo."  
  
"The busboy?"  
  
"The busboy."  
  
They both pondered the delicious thought of the tall, dark and handsome Ramone with the innocent Pablo. Draco nodded and Ron looked superior. They both picked up the popcorn and deposited the bowls in the kitchen sink, where they magically began to clean themselves.  
  
"Well, what do you want to do now?" asked Draco, already heading up to Ron's room. The redhead shrugged and followed the shorter boy. Like before, the numerous times they had walked up the stairs, Draco sashayed up as Ron's eyes constantly found the Slytherin's rounded flesh. Both were aware of it, though they chose to ignore it happening.  
  
In the bedroom, Draco picked up a book and started to read. Ron settled next to him and read also.  
  
"You done?"  
  
"Yep, go ahead and turn."  
  
Draco gasped, "Are you at the part-"  
  
"Merlin! Why did he do that? Okay, turn."  
  
"Weasly?"  
  
"Wait a second! Geez, what are you, a speed reader?" Ron smiled and tried to read faster. Draco stopped reading and watched as the brown eyes flashed over the words on the page.   
  
"Weasly, stop."  
  
Ron paused and looked up. Draco noticed offhandedly that the red fringe had grown long enough to surpass Ron's eyes. What a pity that they covered that warm gaze....  
  
"What is it, Malfoy?" His breath caught. Draco was looking at him as if he were in a daze. The Gryffindor was painfully aware of their closeness, painfully aware of Draco's eyes so focused on him, painfully aware that he felt something strange around the silver haired boy.  
  
"Weasly," he paused uncertainly. Ron looked at him with wide open interest. So he continued, dropping his gaze, "Do you feel it?"  
  
"Feel what, Malfoy?" Merlin! Where is this going?  
  
Draco gulped hard, "Er, that weird feeling of.... like you have an empty spot in your stomach?"  
  
They both blushed as Ron replied shakily, "Yeah. Kind of like grease and water?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Urm, what do you suppose it is?"  
  
"Dunno."  
  
Their eyes met. Ron was caught by how the light played over Draco's features, striking up the strands in a silvery brilliance and flecking his eyes with white. He looked so beautiful at that moment. Ron wanted to caress that cheek and feel those perfect lips. He wanted to know that Draco liked him. He wanted to know that the Slytherin thought him an equal.  
  
Slowly, Draco said, "Ron." The red head's eyes widened, but he remained silent and let Draco continue. "Ron, why are you looking like that?"  
  
All he was conscious of now was the sweet scent of Draco's breath and the feel of it on his face. Closer? He bit his lip, "Why do you sleep in my arms at night?"  
  
Draco shrugged, "I can't help it."  
  
"Neither can I."  
  
"So what does it mean?"  
  
"I don't know. But if I try something, will you hate me?"  
  
Draco looked at him closely and whispered, "I trust you."  
  
Slowly, the Gryffindor leaned forward and brushed the Slytherin's lips with his own. Just the slightest touch, but it sent shocks of electricity through his nerves. Draco jumped slightly. They were closer now, the book had dropped to the floor. Ron licked his lips and leaned forward again, capturing Draco's mouth in a hot kiss. Roused by the feel of the silky lips, he pressed against Draco, who gave a little, returning the kiss softly. Ron moaned and closed his eyes, bringing up his fingers to run them through the blonde's corn silk tresses. Draco gasped a little, his eyes flying open. But Ron did not notice the sudden tensing of the other boy and he opened his mouth and pushed his tongue passed Draco's stiff lips into the wet cavern of his mouth. It was complete bliss. He found himself reacting to this display and wanting Draco there and with him, so much that it hurt. Pressing the small boy back against the pillows, Ron ground into him, deepening the kiss drastically and running his hands all over the slim figure beneath him. It felt wonderful beyond compare. And he felt he needed to be closer.  
  
Searching, he found the clasp to Draco's robes and began to undo them. Now the Slytherin had gone completely still. Ron dove deeper into his mouth, ravaging and bruising the pink lips with rough teeth. The clasp was almost undone and he felt an urgency to touch more of Draco's ivory skin. He bit the lower lip and suckled, finally tearing the robe in his hurry to get to the velvety skin of the wiry chest. Draco was struggling against Ron now, thrashing about and trying to get his hands free of the ripped robes. In his passion, Ron ignored this and yanked the robe over Draco's shoulders, exposing more delicious flesh. He broke the kiss, not seeing the purplish bruises rising on the skin or the frightened look in Draco's eyes. He attacked the boy's chest, licking and biting at it harshly.  
  
Then he felt a small hand fit into his hair and pull back. Hard. Crying out, he arched his neck back painfully as he heard Draco practically shout, "Stop it, please!"  
  
Once the mist had cleared of Ron's eyes, he saw Draco clearly, lying pinned beneath him, breath coming in harsh gasps, lips bruised as well as his chest scratched, hair disheveled, eyes wild with fear. He drew back and the Slytherin recoiled as if slapped. Ron reached forward slightly, wanting to comfort the boy, but Draco shook his head and tried to pull away. He pushed weakly at Ron and the redhead saw with surprise that there were tears shining in the silvery eyes, now a dark and storming gray.  
  
A whisper, "Weasly, get off of me."  
  
Ron scrambled away from the still form, concern etched over his face. He felt like crying, begging Draco's forgiveness. He did not know what had come over him. Dropping his gaze, he murmured, "I'm sorry. Draco, please-"  
  
"No," said Draco sharply, raising his voice. Ron fell silent, watching the blonde with huge eyes. The smaller boy sat up and pulled his robes back over his shoulders with dignity. He regarded Ron coldly, his gaze completely unfeeling. Ron was overcome with a sense of chilling cold. He winced away from those eyes. He remained on the bed as Draco rose languidly from his position and went to the door. The Slytherin then opened it and slipped through. Ron tried to stop him but the words died on his tongue.  
  
After Ron had overcome the shock of what happened and realized what he had almost done, he sprinted outside to the shed and - through all the spiders - reached his broom, noticing the other one gone, and mounted. He kicked off into the air, hoping against hope that what he thought was right.  
  
Ron found Draco by the stream curled up into a fetal position, asleep. He burned with embarrassment as he looked upon the completely nude figure. The robes lay discarded by the bank, dry. He looked over the lithe body, his breath had been snatched from his chest. Draco's mouth was turned down and his brow furrowed. The eyes were darting this way and that beneath the shadowed lids. He looked like an Angel still. An innocent, and alone Angel who was lost in the world of men with no where to run.  
  
Ron knelt dow and lightly touched the boy's shoulder. He drew his hand away sharply as he saw that the skin was rubbed raw pink. All of the alabaster skin was raw and pink, as if violently scrubbed clean. It looked painful to him and he wanted more than anything to hold Draco and comfort him. That feeing of emptiness in his stomach intensified. As if scrubbed by human hands, scratched by human nails.  
  
Oh Merlin, he thought frantically as Draco stirred, What have I done?  
  
He thought to run for it as the harsh gray eyes flicked open and focused, fixing on him frostily. Biting his lip he stood up and stayed where he was. Draco sat up and crossed his legs, arching an eyebrow as Ron's eyes went over his body. Ron's gaze went back to Draco's face, which was solemn and set. There were traces of tears down the sharp cheeks and redness around the bloodshot eyes. What a beautiful disheveled Angel he was. Stricken, yet cornered and still lethal.  
  
They sat in silence, just watching each other. Draco in all his glorious nakedness. And Ron in an unsure shell of fear and confusion.  
  
Draco tried to get to his feet, but his knees buckled and he crumpled back to the ground weakly. Ron instinctively reached out to help, but Draco slapped his hands away, "Don't touch me."  
  
"Draco, I don't know what happened back at my house! I'm sorry, I'm so damned sorry. Please try and under-"  
  
"Understand? You bloody bastard. You damned fucking imbecile!" He leapt to his feet and came at Ron in full fury, pounding with his fists upon the covered chest. He screamed as he beat the Gryffindor, screamed and cried and raged. Ron fell back slightly under the blows; shocked into silence. He caught the flailing fists and held them tightly to his chest. Tears cascaded down Draco's cheeks as he fell against Ron, crying dryly into the cloth of the cloak. His body was wracked by sobs and weakened. Forgetting the robes and the other broom, Ron picked up the other boy and sat him on the his broom, mounting atop behind him and wrapping his arms around the shivering figure.  
  
The fly back was quick and quiet. Ron managed to sneak Draco up to his room without Mrs. Weasly being any the wiser. There he lay Draco on the bed and backed off. The Slytherin lay still and Ron felt himself stir. He wanted to kiss the boy again, but he held himself back. Draco sat up and rubbed his eyes, looking at Ron with the saddest expression Ron had ever seen grace such a beautiful face.  
  
"I suppose you want some answers then," said Draco quietly.   
  
Ron nodded, crossing his arms over his chest and saying suddenly, "But first *I* want to say that I'm sorry, Draco. I - I guess just having this weird feeling and then you-"  
  
"Don't, please," begged the blonde. "Please stop. Just don't talk. Come here and hold me. Just hold me for a few minutes. Please, Ron."  
  
He complied mutely, scooping up the still shaking body in his arms and holding him tightly, enjoying the feel of the silky smooth skin. Draco lay his head against his shoulder and closed his eyes. A few tears squeezed passed the closed lids and fell onto the black cloth. Ron gently stroked the quicksilver hair and kissed the smooth white forehead. Draco drew back and looked at him squarely in the eyes. Ron looked back unflinchingly.  
  
"I am not used to being touched. In a nice way. So I panic if pressed. Before - that was just too fast for me." His voice was barely audible, but Ron caught every word. He had a strange feeling in his stomach, a sick feeling. And Draco continued, "All my life, the only way of being touched was.... forced and painful. Every time, no matter by whom. It was always forced." He gave a bitter smile, "I guess I'm just the perfect one to be broken. So strong I come off as, but yet so easy to break. Too easy to break." He huddled closer to Ron. "At first, it was just a lingering kiss. A long, lingering kiss. I did not enjoy it. But took it, for I was made to take much and that was how I was taught. But then came the touching. Unpleasant touching. It grew more and more insistent each time. 'How beautiful you are,' he would say to me. He would whisper, always whisper. 'My Dragon, Dragon mine.' I thought that when school started, it would stop. But it didn't. It moved to school. How my peers would look at me. How they would trap me in the corners of our room and...." Draco faded off, his voice grown thick. Ron was horrorstruck and this Angel's words. He was speechless and scared.  
  
"Why didn't you tell anyone?"  
  
"He was much too powerful. They all were. They just loved to break me, again and again. God, it hurt. It hurt so much - only to come home to it. More touching. And more than just that." His voice shook with tremors of the memories, "I hate to be touched. I hate to be forced. They touched me whenever they wanted. They forced me whenever they pleased."   
Ron's heart was sinking inside his chest. He had forced Draco. He had almost forced him to-  
  
"None of them loved me you know. He never loved me either. Though over and over he would say how beautiful, how perfect. How much like *him*. How much he loved to mar that perfection, bend it to his will, hurt it, bruise it, cut it."  
  
"You needn't continue," said Ron, lightly drawing a finger down Draco's jaw line. "It will never happen again. You're with my family now and safe. Draco, do you hear me?"  
  
"But he's still out there! He'll get me again, I know it."  
  
"Not when I'm around," said Ron fiercely, holding him tighter. Draco glanced up at him wonderingly. The brown eyes were blazing and angry. It was an odd look for Ron's face to have. Different from the annoyance he had regarded Draco with for years.  
  
"You mean, you don't think any different of me? I thought you would be disgusted."  
  
"Oh, I am - with your blasted father. But you, no. It has changed between us, Draco. For the good if anything." Draco closed his eyes at the mention of his enemy by name. Ron kissed the halo of silver. "I think you have this type of courage that I've only seen in Harry." He laughed, "No offense. But now you have me anyway. Because I've come to realize something."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Maybe when Bill cast that spell over us, it made something else happen. We both feel it, I'm just not quite sure what it is yet. Though I know that it rather hurts to be far from you." He looked into Draco's eyes affectionately and the Slytherin snorted wryly, "Look at this! I'm a sappy lump of emotions. I'm a worse that a woman going though Menopause."   
  
Ron laughed, "You'd better get dressed now. It's about time for bed and I'm terribly tired anyway. Though if you want me to sleep on the floor-"  
  
Draco scoffed, "Yeah, right. You're staying with me." He pulled Ron's head down and brushed his cheek with his lips. Then he jumped nimbly up from the bed and got dressed quickly. Ron changed and climbed under the sheets. Side by side, they lay down together. Then, as he had done for the past nights, Draco turned on his side and welcomed the warm embrace of the red head. It was a long time before either of them slept. Draco was thinking of earlier - and how it felt with Ron touching him now. And Ron thought of his burning hatred of Lucius Malfoy. Who could hurt Draco like that? But the more he thought of it, the more he realized how close he had been to doing the same. Tightening his grip slightly, he breathed in the scent of Draco. The blonde yawned and put his hands over Ron's.  
  
Not all touches had to be painful.  
  
~*~ (A day later, the. switching to days later. Sorry, tis a bit confuzzling.)  
  
The next day, the night before was practically forgotten. The only change was the regular first name basis and constant contact with each other. Ron let Draco choose when though. And he never tried to kiss the other boy again. Draco gave no indication that he wanted it either. Though every night without fail, they would fall asleep curled around one another. Lucius remained unmentioned between them, nor the talk they had had. It was understood now. Life would go back to normal.  
  
Until the day that Draco sat on the bed, reading. Ron burst into the room and started to pace back and forth, wringing his hands. Draco glanced up from his book, looking inquiringly at the obviously stressed redhead. Leaning up on one elbow, he asked: "What is it?"  
  
"Harry and Mione are arriving in a few days at most!" He groaned and dropped down next to the blonde and covered his face with his hands. Beside him, Draco's whole demeanor changed and he dropped back into the defensive shell he had left after becoming friends with Ron. He regarded the messily written letter in Ron's hand darkly, "Potty and Granger?" Scowling, he lay down the book and rose from the bed. His companion watched him anxiously, "Draco?"  
  
But the Slytherin had fallen into a brooding silence. One could see the emotions and thoughts flickering through the silvery depths. After a few moments of this, he glanced at Ron and said levelly, "They won't much appreciate me here, you know. Perhaps I should make myself scarce." He paused in thought, "Yeah, that would probably be the most logical choice."  
  
"What? No! Just because it may take them awhile to accept you-"  
  
"But you don't get it, Ron? They won't. I know Potter may act *civil* to me, maybe for you. But not Granger. I've done too much to her," he said resignedly, almost sad. Ron bit his lip and worried it with his front teeth. He couldn't just let Draco go like that. There was no way.  
  
"Maybe you could apologize," he suggested meekly, knowing the answer before it came.  
  
Draco looked at him as if he had just told him he had eaten a tarantula with ketchup and poppy seed muffins. Then he shook his head, platinum locks flying about his face, "No way. No." Then he raised his eyes and met Ron's steadily. His gaze registered a decision just made. Ron gulped and sat up as Draco approached him and bent over, putting his face right up to Ron's, hands resting on either shoulder. The Gryffindor's lips parted slightly in wonderment as Draco breathed huskily, eyes fixed upon those lips, "I won't come between you and your circle. I doubt anyone could. So I'm going to give you something." And with that he smirked slyly and without any preamble, crushed his mouth against a very startled Ron's.  
  
At first, Draco just stood there with his eyes closed. Like before, his shoulders tensed and his gripped tightened painfully on Ron's shoulders. But then he relaxed and pushed back, laying Ron down flat on the bed and climbing nimbly over him. Then the velveteen lips opened and plunged a hot tongue into Ron's mouth. The redhead started slightly, but gradually gave in to Draco's soothing caresses. The long white fingers tangled in fiery red locks and freckled fingers stroked sharp cheeks and traced along the perfectly chiseled jaw line.  
  
Stars danced before their eyes as Ron chose to deepen the kiss. Draco felt drunk in bliss. He never wanted this to stop. It was so gentle, so sweet...  
  
He moaned, breaking the kiss, as to when Ron whimpered slightly. But Draco merely smiled at him and kissed down his neck. The redhead gasped and arched his neck. Draco stopped at the base of his throat and suckled on the freckled skin. Moaning, Ron took Draco's chin firmly in his hand and titled the Angelic face up to him, bringing their lips together again softly.  
  
Draco rolled over, pulling Ron with him. The lanky youth wrapped his arms around the slender body and crushed him against his chest. He straddled Draco's hips and gently tugged at the pouty lower lip. Draco smiled and met the other boy's lips once more in a hot and rushed kiss.  
  
Then they both heard a gasp that came from neither of them. Ron rose partway off of Draco and looked irritably at the doorway. Then he froze, jaw hanging limp.  
  
"Well," said Harry weakly.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ O.O Zowee.  
  
A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know! I've created a rather weak and pitiful needy!Draco. I'm ashamed, really. But if you think on it - go ahead, think away! - how would you be in the same situation, eh? EH?! I *thought* so. Now just accept him for the weepy wimp he is. Who knows, *mysterious smile* a whole new Draco may emerge in the future. And yes, I know that I've been rather cliched lately also. LET PREDICTABLE SAPPINESS RISE AGAIN TO REIGN SUPREME!! MAHAHA!! *snerk* But if you disagree, let us just sit back and watch how this yummers oatmeal without raisins cookie crumbles, shall we? I have a few more tricks hidden up my sleave yet, loves! Though before you go and leave a wonderful review: How can I follow this up? - for I'm always willing to contemplate ideas! Yes, yet again I am seeking your limitless wisdom, gracious reviewers. For only YOU can prevent ficcie fires started by flamers who will attack my humble story if I am left to fend for myself! I have not recieved any flames on this in peticular yet, but I fear that without your help.... it just may begin! And one more thing before I take my leave: Sorry this is turning out so dark, uncomfortable, and angsty. Heh. I'll make up for it with a lot of snogging. *grin* AU REVOIR!!  
  
~*Villain*~ 


	8. A Whole Goat Load 'o Problems, Aye!

Ron's Worst Nightmare  
  
  
  
  
A/N: THANX TO andrea: *squeals* =D Pervert Bitch: *grin* Well, do not go suffering withdrawals because of little old me! Robert D: Well, thankees, darling! leah: *grin* Thief: MY 100th REVIEWER!! Wheehoolio! Eriol: *sniffles with emotion* I am so.... honored! Mus4u: *squeaks w/ delight*   
  
Just a little note before we resume reading: // means that the conversation is happening outside the flashback. *_~   
  
Chapter Eight: A Whole Goat Load 'o Problems, Aye!  
  
"Gaa!" Ron leaped off of Draco as if electrocuted, flipping backwards off the bed squealing and hitting his head painfully on the floor. The Slytherin sat up on his elbows and smirked at the two frozen teens in the doorway. Then he picked himself up, dusted himself off with dignity, and calmly slipped past them out the door. But not before saying smoothly, "Potty, Granger. Always the ones for timing."  
  
Harry's gaze followed the Slytherin down the hall and part way down the stairs. Then the calming emerald orbs flicked back to Ron, who was sprawled flat on the ground, rubbing his temples painfully. Rolling his eyes, Harry walked over, casually dumping his things on the bed, and helped his friend stand. Ron took his hand and allowed himself to be swung up. Hermione walked in and set her stuff next to Harry's, shaking her head. The frizz of her hair bobbed slightly with the movement and Ron smiled warmly as he backed away to get a good look at his two best friends. Hermione returned his smile a little oddly and his own smile was wiped from his face. Harry was frowning.  
  
"Well," said Hermione sanguinely, "looks like I've won double time, Harry." She grinned and extended her hand, palm up. Ron's brow furrowed as Harry grumbled darkly, digging in his pockets. He extracted a couple of shining galleons and handed them to a very satisfied Hermione.  
  
Ron narrowed his eyes, "What was that for?" Harry ignored the question and sat tiredly on the bed, running his fingers through his raven black hair. "We made a bet," bubbled Hermione happily. Sitting beside Harry, Ron turned to glare at his friend with annoyance, "What?"  
  
"It looked a bit more than just being able to stand one another to me," growled Harry moodily. Ron blushed, and said defensively "You shouldn't jump to conclusions like that, you know." But Harry only scoffed, "And with Malfoy none the less! Don't you remember what he's done to you in the past?"  
  
"Forgive and forget, Harry," said Hermione angelically. Ron gave her a grateful look, to which she winked back.  
  
"No, this is Malfoy. The same nasty, bragging, arrogant git we've known for years! All he wants is to dominate you. He's like that."  
  
Ron stood up angrily, "That isn't true! Don't be a prat, Harry. He's different. I've gotten to know him. If you would just give him a chance-"  
  
"No," stated Harry coldly. "I refuse to even acknowledge him as a human being. Ron! Open your eyes. He probably only wants to get into your pants. He must be suffering withdrawals from his father screwing him at home. Or banging every boy at school!"  
  
"That is not bloody true!" Ron roared, his hands balling into fists at his sides. Hermione jumped in between them and put her hands flat against their chests. "Stop it," she warned. "Come on! You guys never fight. Don't let Malfoy come between you like this. And Harry, you quit acting like a child. Maybe he *has* changed. It's known to happen, Harry. I trust Ron's judgment. And we don't know the whole story anyway. If Bill felt it wise to let Malfoy stay here, then that was a good decision and I say you should respect that. Not to mention that our best friend thinks him all right!" Her eyes bore into the both of them, blazing like the dickens. Harry looked down, ashamed. Ron sighed in frustration and look towards the door, biting back the urge to shove Hermione off and run after Draco.  
  
She backed away and looked at the both of them with thinned lips, giving off an uncanny resemblance to Minerva McGonnagal. Her hands went reflexively to her hips and she said primly, "This isn't school any more. It's Summer and I plan of having fun, whether or not a Malfoy is near. Harry, just remember to have some compassion!" Then more quietly, "You of all people should understand what it is he's going through. The papers said his mother was killed right in front of him. Sirius must've told you more."  
  
Harry's eyes misted over oddly and he shut them tightly. Then, opening them again, he said bleakly, "If he even breathes wrong-"  
  
Hermione nodded, cutting him off, "Good. Now then Ron, have you worked on any of your homework yet? Harry, I know *you* haven't. We best get an early start!" She became very chipper all of a sudden and flounced over to her bags, dragging out mounds of papers and books. Harry groaned and slid to the floor, glumly accepting a book stuffed with parchment from Hermione. Ron did likewise, secretly jumping with joy that his friends hadn't entirely freaked out over the whole incident. But that joy was cut short as he was handed a Potions book. "Essay. Now," commanded Hermione sternly. Grumbling, he opened the book and began to read.  
  
~*~  
  
When Hermione took Harry and begun lecturing him on proper penmanship skills, Ron had taken the opportunity to go after Draco. Knowing his friends wouldn't notice for a while yet, (by the heated argument ensuing) but being cautious all the same, he said before going out the door; "Bathroom!" As he expected, they completely ignored him, which was quite fine.  
  
Draco was down in the kitchen sipping a cup of cocoa with marshmallows (four of them) while reading the paper. Ron slipped into the seat across from the boy and watched him read. Draco's eyes flashed over the pages, skimming the words at a blinding speed. Every few seconds he would lift up the mug and take a sip of chocolate, then resume reading the tiny text. His fringe hung low over his eyes and his mouth was completely still. Ron thought of clearing his throat, but dismissed it. Somehow he knew very well that Draco was aware of his presence.  
  
"There's more chocolate in the pot if you want to help yourself."  
  
"No thanks. What are you reading?"  
  
"Actually, it seems I've been reading over the same damn paragraph for the past half hour. Something about a speech Fudge made on the old practice of tarring and feathering." Now the gray eyes flicked up to meet Ron's gaze. They were like tiny ice crystals and Ron couldn't help but roll his eyes at the boy across the table from him. Draco caught it and took another sip from his cup bemusedly. "What is it, Weasly?"  
  
"My name is *Ron*, Draco," he said tightly, glaring. Draco just shrugged, sipping he chocolate with aggravating nonchalance. And Ron felt like leaning across the table and slapping that face that he had become so infatuated with since sharing their mutual kiss, right after Draco had confessed to Ron about his past. Now the redhead took that into account and resisted causing physical harm to the shorter boy, even though it would probably do him good to get a reality punch in his flawless jaw. Sighing, he extended his arm and plucked the paper from Draco's hands, folding it and setting it neatly in his lap. Then meeting Draco's dry expression, he said rather irritably; "Why don't you be the more mature one and just talk to them like nothing ever happened before?"  
  
Draco smirked with a knowing glint in his eye. This always made Ron feel belittled and he harumphed crabbily, crossing his arms over his chest. "It isn't me," shrugged Draco levelly, "It's him."  
  
"Aaurgh!" Ron threw up his hands, dumping the paper to the floor. But Draco only chuckled, "Won't they be missing you up there?"  
  
To this, Ron only replied stubbornly, "I'm not leaving until I know why exactly it's him and not you. So talk, Malfoy or I'll just have to drag it right out of you."  
  
"My name is *Draco*, Ron," he retorted mockingly. Then he shook his head when Ron glared and continued, "I'm not sure if Potty will appreciate me telling you this, Ron. It'll probably do more harm than good in the long run."  
  
Instantly wary, Ron narrowed his eyes. "What?"  
  
Mischievous glee was flitting around Draco's expression and Ron knew that this was something that would either make him angry, or - well, angry was probably the most likely outcome. The Slytherin spoke airily, his eyes never leaving Ron's face. "About the time Potter and myself had a bit of a snogging session, end of this year in detention."  
  
Ron was speechless, gawking. He made odd sounds in the back of his throat. Draco grinned, "Shall I just stop before I even start? I can see this is upsetting you."  
  
"That is not true. You guys hate each other!"  
  
Arching an eyebrow, Draco replied coyly, "Well, I think we have established that "hate" doesn't quite matter." He moved his foot up Ron's leg under the table and the redhead squeaked. "Spot that," he commanded the Slytherin, trying not to laugh. "But really, you and Harry?" He snorted.  
  
"Well, you see, we had a very late night detention with Snape in the dungeons. Alone."  
  
Ron's eyes widened, "Tell me more then."  
  
Draco yawned, "Well all right, if you want to hear all the gory details."  
  
The Gryffindor grinned hungrily, scooting closer to the table and peering deep into Draco's amused eyes, "I want ALL the gory details."  
  
"Why, are you salivating, Ron dear?"  
  
"Whatever you say, just continue."  
  
"Odd, that's just what Potter said while under my spell," said Draco flirtatiously. "Anyway, Snape was called away for some reason, most likely having to do something with the Fight....."   
  
~*FLASHBACK DRACO'S VERSION. Ho hum, pig's bum!!*~  
  
"Professor McGonnagal."  
  
"Snape."  
  
"What is it you came for? Is something the matter?"  
  
"Dumbledore needs to speak with you right away." Her eyes turned to Potter and I, who still sat like wrongly convicted criminals (except for of course Potter, the git) in front of Snape's desk. Instantly I knew that something must've happened with Voldemort. My eyes locked with Snape's. I wondered if Dumbledore would need me for anything. You see, I was the key informational spy for the side of Light. So Snape gave me a miniscule shake of his head and I returned my gaze back to the blank stone wall. I sat beside Potter in a stiff backed chair. We had been partners for the potion that day and had gotten in a fight over the right rotation of the cauldron.   
  
//"I was right in the end as always, but Potter just had to get all sore about it," said Draco matter-of-factly. Ron rolled his eyes. "Mmm hmm."//  
  
"You two sit right there and don't move until I return," Snape said. I nodded and Potter just huffed like a little boy and crossed his arms over his chest, pouting like the prat he is.  
  
//"Gee, Draco, you must've been studying him closely to notice all that," pointed out Ron slyly. Draco sent him a scathing glare and continued.//  
  
Snape was gone not five minutes before Potter started to fidget and squirm in his seat. I swear, he's like one of those odd little monkeys with the blue bums who can't sit still for the life of them. Finally getting rather fed up, I told him to sit the hell still. He did, after flipping me off like a hothead. Really, he can be such an immature little wanker at times. I kicked his chair so that it flew out from under him and he ended up on his back: Only to jump up two seconds later spitting and cursing like a stray street cat. Being the more mature and reasonable of the both of us, I calmly rose to my feet and punched him in the face.  
  
"What the hell," he screeched shrilly. I merely smirked. Then the next instant he had me by the collar and pinned roughly up against the wall. Really quite the domineering little turnip, digging his hips into mine, breathing into my face-  
  
//Ron sat up more erect in his chair, leaning forward and hanging off every word. Draco couldn't help but grin with superiority. Ron looked so cute when he was fascinated with something. Especially something as wicked as Harry Potter glomping Draco Malfoy.//  
  
-though I must say that boy should discover breath mints or he's never going to get any. But he had me bent back over a gargoyle head set in the wall and it was rather painful.   
  
//At this, Ron grinned, encouraging Draco to elaborate all the more.//  
  
So, you know, I started to squirm a bit. Which I must say I HATE to do. But he didn't want me moving much, because he shook me a bit and moved closer so that we were pressed up against each other completely. Kind of freakish, no? Anyway, I'm not just going to let him do this to me, I have shame after all.  
  
But what could I do? Obviously Potter was on a major testosterone kick and celebrating because for once he had caught Draco Malfoy. The Great Draco Malfoy. The Indestructible Draco Malfoy. The Gorgeous Draco Malfoy. Shall I say? - The Grand High Exalted SEX GOD Draco Malfoy!  
  
//Ron looked at him blankly. "Harumph," Draco pouted. "Fine then, don't hear all of my totally well deserved and rightfully given titles."//  
  
His face was mere centimeters away from mine, our lips shaking, mine with anger, his probably with lust - which is only to be suspected. The gargoyle was really digging into my back then and I couldn't help myself. I groaned and arched over, easing off the pressure. Long and loud I groaned. Foolish of me, I know, what with a wild and untamed Potter holding me up against the wall.  
  
//"My God. You have got to be kidding me." All Ron received with these words was a very nasty look. He ducked his head and motioned for the blonde to continue at will.//  
  
Well, the dunderhead took it the wrong way, obviously or I wouldn't be telling you this. For a second he just sat there motionless, staring at me like a deer in the headlights. Then he did it, the prat. He withdrew as if unsure, and then slammed me harder against the wall, giving me a disgusting, repulsive, unsavory, sick, twisted, nauseating, wet, sticky, heated, deep, hot - er - nasty arse kiss!!  
  
//Ron grinned, "Now this was what I was waiting for!"//  
  
He hands grasped at every piece of skin he could get to, which included the glorious skin hiding under my robes at the time. I admit, I began to struggle a bit, but only because he was suffocating me like crazy! Tongues all over the place and that! It was down my throat, I swear. He has a very long tongue. Then he started undoing my robes - I couldn't exactly stop him, could I? And then he pushed me to the ground slowly, pinning my arms to my sides and breathing into my face heavily.  
  
//Ron's eyes bugged out of his head and he held back a squeal so as not to disrupt Draco, who had began to talk more smoothly, not even seeing Ron as he remembered.//  
  
I could feel every bump in the stones on the floor digging into my back. Potter's fingers were viciously entwined in my hair, ripping my head back. I remember moaning and then spreading my - UH! - *eyelids* apart because Snape came back! He yelled at Potter and told us to sit down and be still for the whole rest of the time! The end!  
  
~*END FLASHBACK DRACO'S VERSION. The pig bums have now ho hummed.*~  
  
Ron stared. "That's it?"   
  
Draco gulped, averting his eyes, "Yes?"  
  
"I don't believe you."  
  
"So my memory is a bit fuzzy. That was *pretty* much what happened." He glared and Ron only sighed. Although he wouldn't tell Draco, he was just a teensy weensy bit disappointed with the whole story. Ah well, he's not the only one. (A/N: *everyone glares at Villain* Wha!? It's called modesty, people!! Yeesh. *looks shifty* And it's also called "What Happens When Muses Take Off a Day and Leave a Very Incompetent Author By Herself".)   
  
"So I guess that's why Harry never described that detention, or who it was with."  
  
"Exactly," replied Draco smugly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Potter just couldn't face the shame of freaking out and confessing that he lusted after me like the rest of the bloody school."  
  
Ron only snorted, earning himself a rather dark look from the Slytherin. Draco reached across the table and tweaked Ron's nose and the Gryffindor caught the Slytherin's finger and dragged Draco up out of his seat. The blonde leaned enticingly over the table to meet Ron's eager lips. His fingers went up and entangled in the thick red hair while Ron wrapped his long arms around Draco's neck.  
  
"We're resuming where we left off, then," murmured Draco against Ron's lips. He closed his eyes and deepened the kiss, drawing a delectable moan from the redhead. But as Draco started to climb up over the table, Hermione's voice floated down the stairs, sounding flustered, "Ron! You're not going to get any work done by snacking in the kitchen!" Ron drew back, grinning, "If only she knew I was snacking on *you*." Draco rolled his eyes and pouted. "Don't leave yet," he whined, jutting out his lower lip. Ron's eyes went to that lip and he latched onto it as Draco began to purr.  
  
Then they heard Mrs. Weasly coming through the living room with Ginny. Ron and Draco threw themselves away from each other as if electrocuted, flying back and crashing over their chairs. They looked innocently at the two Weasly women and stood up. Draco promptly bowed and left the room, heading out to the backyard while Ron smiled apologetically and made his way back upstairs.   
  
Two hours later, Mrs. Weasly informed everyone that it was time to go to bed. Draco, who stood leaning against the door to the kitchen, face impassive, flicked his eyes to Ron's anxious gaze. Harry caught it and narrowed his eyes, nudging Hermione who grunted and ignored him, trying not to lose her place among the tiny words of her book.  
  
~*~  
  
"Hey, Ginny!" The two girls embraced warmly, giggling and draping their arms loosely about one another's waists. Before they disappeared behind the door of Ginny's room, Harry and Ron heard Ginny squeal distinctly, "Oh, I *know*! He's so hot!" They rolled their eyes, muttering, "Girls."  
  
Harry tucked himself into Ron's bed, politely settling in at the far right side. Ron took the left, his eyes on his friend's dark hair, willing it to turn to a ghostly white. But it didn't and Harry waved his hand in front of Ron's eyes. "Hey, you all right? You look a bit dazed."  
  
"Just tired."  
  
"Oh," said Harry, slightly putout. He had found out some awfully juicy facts about some Ravenclaws Hermione had seen together at the Leaky Cauldron, and was dying to tell Ron. But the redhead didn't seem in the gossiping mood tonight. Harry pursed his lips, Malfoy coming instantly to mind. The bloody prat. He was probably after Ron.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
He blinked out of his own little world and looked at Ron. "Yeah?"  
  
"You look like you need to gossip," said Ron with a sleepy grin. Harry grinned, too, and flopped down on his stomach. Ron rolled over and leaned up on his elbows to listen. Harry promptly fired away everything he knew about their peers over the summer. Ron listened intently, struggling to keep his mind off a certain pair of stormy silver eyes.....  
  
In the next room, those *very* enchanting eyes were narrowed irritably while Draco paced back and forth across the dark guest bedroom. He could hear occasional squeals from the girls' room and quiet murmuring from Harry and Ron.  
  
While Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been in the living room, Draco had quietly snuck all his things over to the guest bedroom so that the duo wouldn't ask any questions. Though now he paced, cursing himself for putting everything in the *middle* room; right smack between the four other teens' quarters.  
  
Glancing at his sterling silver wristwatch his father had bought for him fourth year, Draco saw that it was nine o'clock. Growling under his breath, he threw himself down on the coverlet and tried to read. But it felt strange not having a familiar red mop of hair right next him, letting him know when he could turn the page. Upon throwing the book down in disgust, Draco resumed pacing. Though it was good for him and he was burning calories, it didn't solve the problem of not having Ron there with him - near him. The empty spot in his stomach ached and grew into an annoying knot. Desperate for some kind of distraction, the platinum blonde took out his summer homework. Transfiguration, Potions, DADA, Magical Creatures. That ought to be enough to bore him out of his wits. Then maybe he would fall asleep and hope that he didn't end up dreaming about Ron.  
  
The clock in the kitchen chimed at midnight and all the house was quiet. No explosions from the twins room, or the sound of Percy scratching away with his quill. No Bill or Charlie with their father downstairs discussing Ministry work. No Mrs. Weasly on a midnight baking run.  
  
Draco lay unaware of all these sounds missing when the older siblings were gone. All he knew was that he had been waiting three hours for that chime. For the house's eminent silence. Smirking, he rose to stand in the middle of the circle of parchment and books, none of which he had touched since bringing them out. Cautiously, he stepped over the papers and went to the door, opening it. Almost enough to slip through....   
  
SQUEAK!  
  
He froze, holding his breath. But nothing moved. He squeezed past the door, looking both ways down the short hallway. Then, still holding his breath, he crept on silent tip toes to the door labeled RONALD'S ROOM. Pausing, he noted the words, realizing that he'd never noticed them before. Then he opened the door, careful of creaking, and slipped inside, leaving it behind him slightly ajar.  
  
Before he even reached the bed where two slim figures were outlined by the moonlight, one of them sat up and looked fixedly at him. In the dark he couldn't make out his face, or the color of his hair. It stood up in a messy nest of wiry strands. The breath caught in Draco's chest. Potter....  
  
"Draco?"  
  
Ron.  
  
Wordlessly, the lanky form disentangled himself from the blankets and shuffled over to Draco, drawing up his arms around the Slytherin's shoulders and hugging him tightly. "Merlin, it was so cold without you. I'm so glad you're here."  
  
Draco said nothing, just buried his head in Ron's shoulder, gripping at Ron's naked chest and trying to get as close as possible to the other boy. "Sorry to disturb your sleep," he mumbled, closing his eyes and breathing in Ron's scent. He felt Ron's chin settled on the top of his head and the skin shift as the boy grinned, whispering back, "Yeah right. I've been awake forever."  
  
"Me too."  
  
They just held each other in the darkness until Ron suggested the roof. At this, Draco gave him a quizzical look. "The roof?"  
  
"Yeah. Usually I like to keep it my secret place, but I feel like going up there with you right now."  
  
Draco felt like he should feel pride at this, but only felt relief. To be alone with Ron in a sweet embrace. He sighed and followed the redhead out, keeping a firm grip on the other's hand.  
  
"It's beautiful out tonight, isn't it Draco?" Ron looked up at the twinkling sky, shivering slightly from the cold night wind blowing over the Weasly house and skimming the tall knobby roof on which he and Draco sat side by side.  
  
"Mmm." Ron turned to see Draco's eyes fixed on him. He blushed under the intensity of the gaze. Grinning, Draco leaned over and caught his lips, massaging Ron's mouth with his tongue. The Gryffindor moaned and arched his back, scooting as close as he could to the smaller boy, opening his mouth and welcoming the probing tongue inside. Their eyes slipped shut and Draco pulled Ron back, laying down with the taller youth over him.  
  
"We best be careful," Ron warned him. "We're right above Ginny and Hermione's room. And I know for a fact that Ginny is a light sleeper."  
  
"What are you suggesting, darling," cooed Draco, nipping the end of Ron's nose. He could see a blush settle beautifully over the tops of the high set cheekbones. Laughing quietly, he rolled them both over, holding the squirming figure beneath him. Ron chuckled coyly, craning his neck to kiss Draco's bent forehead.  
  
"I'd love to see Potter's face if he climbed up here right now."  
  
"Geez, Draco," hissed Ron, covering Draco's mouth with his hand. Smirking, Draco licked at that hand and Ron drew it back. "Don't say that! With our luck he'd pop right up and we'd have a lot of prying questions to answer."  
  
"Fine," sighed Draco. "Which I suppose leaves the prying all to me." Ron flashed him a smile, then cocked his head. Draco drew back, "What is it?"  
  
"I-" Just then, Harry's head crested the edge of the sky window from the attic which the two had used to come up on the roof. Frantically, Draco dove to the side, rolling. Ron squeaked as Draco disappeared over the edge of the roof. He started over, but Harry had heaved himself over through the window, yawning, "Watcha doing up here, Ron?" His gaze became suspicious and he looked all over the roof searchingly. "Hmm. I think you should come down now, Ron." His look told Ron enough suspicions that the redhead nodded. When Harry turned back to the window, Ron glanced over the side of the house. Draco was sitting with an adorable pout on his face on Ginny's window sill, legs sticking in through the open window to the girls' bedroom. He looked up at Ron, the frown disappearing from his face. He gave Ron a thumbs up, blowing him a kiss, and ducked in through the window. Ron groaned, leaning as far as he could over the roof's edge.  
  
"Are you coming?" Harry demanded, watching impatiently as Ron's head snapped up and he crawled back to him and climbed down through the window. Having one last look about for any stray Malfoys, Harry followed his best friend down the ladder, through the attic (saying a kind hello to the attic ghoul) and back to their shared room.  
  
Meanwhile, Draco found himself in quite a bind. For in choosing Ginny's room to land in, (which in reality was the only choice he had) Draco had inadvertently planted himself in an extremely tricky situation. Because according to what Ron had said, if he so as stepped wrong, Ginny and Hermione would be up and screaming hysterically like girls tend to do.  
  
Damn it all, he thought grumpily, looking about. What he saw was a sea of magazines and crinkled paper. Glancing at one of these pieces of paper, by the light of the moon he saw scrawled upon the sheet: Dearest Beloved Guy Gusto. He rolled his eyes. That blaggard was the Teen Witch hottest wizard for that month. How sickening. Though he had to admit the boy had nice qualities. Though really, his were *so* much better.  
  
But at the moment, the boys' looks comparison was the least problem he had to worry about (though Draco beat that blonde baby face out completely, no competition!). For we all know that if a person may step, or brush against a piece of crinkled paper, it makes a rather intrusive crackling noise, especially loud on such a quiet summer night when it is too warm for any night noisy animals. Swearing mentally, Draco picked his way carefully over the paper traps, sticking his tongue out as well as his arms for good balance. Then he thought of how he looked and had to pinwheel his arms to keep steady. Just the thought made him shake with silent laughter.  
  
Hmm, laughing at himself. A trait procured from Ron no doubt. Smiling at the thought of *his* redheaded hunk, he miss stepped and tripped over one of Hermione's suitcases. Luckily, he regained his balance with little noise and dignity well intact. Except that when he stepped forward again, his foot met with the side of an ink bottle, which immediately rolled out from under his foot, sending him flying.  
  
He landed with a painful thump on the ground. There was a muffled snort and then Ginny and Hermione were up and alert. Thinking fast, Draco rolled sideways under the bed, colliding with several dolls, lost undies, old socks, and a muggle board game having to do with a funky little wizard man in a jar. Dust swirled about him and settled all over his frame, coating his cheeks and hanging off his lashes like a ghastly second skin. He groaned inwardly. Just his luck. He happened to be allergic to dust, dammit.  
  
"What was that?" hissed Ginny, clutching at the light switch. Hermione shook her head, trying to wake up. Light flooded the room a second later and both girls were sitting up on their knees, perched on Hermione's side of the bed, facing the door. Underneath the bed, Draco struggled not to sneeze.  
  
"Maybe it's an owl," suggested Hermione, wide eyed. Her wand was in her hand and held up. Ginny looked up at the ceiling, wondering if the ghoul up in the attic was at it again. Whenever the house was peaceful (which meant that the twins were gone) the attic ghoul became unnerved and decided to make noise. Growling, she called up at the ceiling, "Will you be QUIET!"  
  
"Don't yell at the ceiling," said Hermione. "It was definitely in here." They looked at each other and, agreeing silently with a small nod, dove to the ground and ripped aside the covers.  
  
But nothing was under the bed except for the usual junk. They shrugged at each other, then Hermione noticed a small lace thing on the floor and pulled it out. She squealed and giggled madly, jumping to her feet and dancing about, howling with laughter. "Ginny, you didn't tell me you flossed!" Ginny's jaw dropped and she tackled Hermione, grabbing the frilly pink thong from the older girl's fingers. "It's under the bed for a reason, Hermione! I don't wear it anymore!"  
  
"Yeah, right! Hee!"  
  
While Ginny threw a bubbly Hermione on the bed and tried to pry the tiny piece of cloth from her fingers, Draco crawled out from where he had scrambled back under the bed when the girls had come back up, and practically slithered out the door. As he dashed to his own room and slipped in, he heard Ginny's loud threat; "That *has* been up my bum, you know!" Which was followed by a loud and piercing screech from Hermione.  
  
"Bloody hell," grumbled Draco, shutting his door and padding over to his bed, collapsing upon it. Well, he was wide awake now. Which couldn't be helped since the hall was filled with wild squeals and shrieks. He covered his head with the pillow and thought nice thoughts of Ron in a yummy lace thong.  
  
A/N: I really don't know what my problem is. But it seems that that odd little spaghetti panty somehow ALWAYS worms its way into my stories. *shrugs* Eh.  
  
~*Villain*~ 


	9. More Untold Truths and Plenty of Bums

Ron's Worst Nightmare  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Nine: More Untold Truths and Plenty of Bums  
  
The next day, Ron, Harry, and a shadowy eyed, but good humored Hermione were up early, eating alone in the kitchen. Ron, who had stoutly ignored all the unintelligible squealing the night before, enjoyed a nice dream filled sleep. Though he ahd thought of the detention snogging Draco told of yesterday most of the night. He took to scheming a way to bring it up subtly to Harry and Hermione, forcing his best friend to spill the beans. In a matter of speaking.  
  
He had no trouble changing the conversation to school, Hermione did that for him. She warned them that this year, things would be different. Not so many rules would be broken. At this, Harry snorted and Ron yawned. She became very ruffled, and then Ron interjected with the straightforward question, "You know, that reminds me, Harry, how was that detention you had at the end of the year, the one you refused to talk about?"  
  
Hermione smirked and fixed Harry with an amused glare, "Yes, Harry, let's tell Ron about that, shall we?"   
  
Ron looked at her. "He told you?"  
  
"I bribed him with doing his homework."  
  
"Ah. So spill, Harry."  
  
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, shooting a death glare at Hermione, who waved happily back. Ron leaned closer and lied slyly, "Seamus told me that it was with Pansy."  
  
"No, it was with Malfoy," said Harry quickly, looking considerably shifty under the interrogating looks of his two best friends.  
  
"Harry, Ron has a right to know, so tell him what you told me or I'll do it for you." Ron was very thankful for Hermione at that moment, he doubted Harry would tell him the truth unless she pushed him to do it. Gulping, Harry licked his dry lips and began hesitantly. "Well, we were in detention for two hours with McGonnagal after starting that food fight. But at the start of it, Snape came in and McGonnagal had to leave with him for some business with Dumbledore...."  
  
~*FLASHBACK HARRY'S VERSION. Happy National Hug Day!!!*~  
  
"Professor Snape."  
  
"Mcgonnagal."  
  
"Is there something-"  
  
"Dumbledore needs your assistance with - something." He gave Malfoy this weird look. I guessed right away that his bastard of a father did something horrible. Malfoy looked at Snape. I just sat there and I swear, something like telepathy happened because Snape shook his head and Malfoy sat back down. They must have been lovers at the time or something.  
  
//Ron and Hermione glanced at each other cynically. Harry stoutly ignored them and continued.//  
  
McGonnagal left and so we were alone in the classroom. Well, right away, Malfoy started saying all kinds of rot about this and that. So I told him to shut up. He did, but got out of his seat, too. I was a bit freaked out when I looked up because there was this really strange look on his face. His eyes were half closed and-  
  
//Harry stopped and blushed. Ron again met Hermione's eyes. "Just say it, Harry."//  
  
He looked like he wanted to - er - well, he looked pretty odd for having detention with a guy he claimed to hate. So I started to get up, but he put his hands on my shoulders and I froze. They were like ice. Then they dropped and began to undo my robes. Well, I jumped up and whirled around, my clasp already undone. I glared at him and tried to redo it, but he swung around the desk and stood in front of me, smirking like he does.  
  
"You want me, Potter?" I was totally stunned. I was so surprised I sputtered and fell backwards, trying to get away.  
  
//"Sure," teased Hermione. "You just fell, Harry. Sure."//  
  
Before I knew what was what he-  
  
//Harry paused uncertainly. "Don't stop now for Merlin's sake!" Ron wailed. Both Harry and Hermione gave him weird looks. He flushed and cleared his throat. "Heh. I just mean that we aren't going to laugh or anything."//  
  
Before I knew what, he was on top of me, attacking my mouth. I tried to shove him off, but he had grabbed - he had pinned my hands down and I couldn't move at all for the life of me. At all. I couldn't move. So I was trapped and could do nothing but let him continue to.... yeah. So then I guess that's all you need to know for now. He is a pervert and totally came onto me. Literally. He's been in almost everyones' pants, so why not take an opportunity with Harry Potter? He could brag about it all over the place. Use it against me. That's just how he is.  
  
~*END HARRY'S FLASHBACK. I have a feeling they did more than just hug*~  
  
The raven haired boy was blushing madly. Ron looked confused. Hermione looked like she was trying not to burst out laughing. "That's why you won't give Malfoy another chance? Because he glomped you?" She was grinning very broadly. And just then, Draco swept in, looking very irritable. He arched an eyebrow, his mouth turned firmly down. "That is the most complete rot I've ever heard in my entire life, Potty. Trying to cover up your horny little attitude by victimizing me as a sex fiend. I wouldn't even touch you with two dragon hyde gloves covering my hands - much less *kiss* you and come within contact of your slimy lips. And besides, if anything like that went down, guess who would be the one to break first. Think REALITY, Potter."  
  
"No way, Malfoy, you wanted me so bad."  
  
"Don't flatter yourself, Potter. You were clearly hallucinating."  
  
"Yeah, like when I was hallucinating you sucking on my...... neck?"  
  
"Exactly, all in your mind. And if we EVER did anything, I was surely unconscious at the time."  
  
"Bull shit!" They crossed their arms stubbornly and glared daggers at each other.  
  
"Well," sighed Hermione exasperatedly, glancing sideways at Ron, "At least they're talking, right?"  
  
"More like taunting each other to a point of murderous rage," replied Ron wryly.   
  
Hermione laughed and motioned him to leave the room. "Let's let them run themselves out, shall we?"  
  
"They'll get into a fight," Ron pointed out reasonably, to which Hermione only shrugged.   
  
"Let them then," she said with amusement, "I have a feeling that's just what they need to smarten them up a bit. Nothing better for a whiny boy then a good beating from his arch nemesis, eh?" Grinning, Ron nodded in agreement and hooked his arm with his friend's, walking out the door. It was so nice out, why not go and have a lemonade and talk with Hermione while Harry and Draco dragged out their little spout? It sounded like a good idea to him and he and Hermione did just that.  
  
~*~  
  
"What do you want with him, Malfoy," hissed Harry scathingly through tightly clenched teeth. Draco only smirked in reply and hummed a few lines of a hit Weird Sisters song called "You Really Suck You Pathetic Git". Green eyes narrowed into two tiny blazing slits of rage, tanned fists shaking at his sides. He took a threatening step towards the shorter blonde, who turned to face him fully, glaring back at him with amused contempt, a smirk playing over his sensuous lips. Harry tried not to look at those lips and focused instead on glowering darkly. "I won't let you hurt him, Malfoy. He's my best friend," Harry warned. But Draco only half closed his eyes flirtatiously and chuckled, "I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing, *Harry*. Perhaps it is just that *you* are jealous that your obsession and your best friend are together, leaving you to mope about with Granger and her books."  
  
"You are not my obsession," was the growled reply.  
  
"Don't think I can't see how you've looked at me before, Potter. Or how hungrily you kissed me in that detention you told so thoroughly *mangled*."  
  
"I just told it how it happened."  
  
"You missed the part where you said you could love me, Potter."  
  
"And you missed the part where you made the first move, Malfoy."  
  
"Scared and hurt by rejection, are we?"  
  
"You just have no heart."  
  
"Oh, tut tut. Just because you're not happy doesn't mean that you have to hold Ron down. He'll be better with me and you know it. Don't you?"  
  
"I know that you're using him, like you use everyone else. To you he's just another -"  
  
Anger flashed sudden and dark in Draco's eyes. In two long strides he had Harry pinned up against the wall, clutching the collar of his robes and knocking the Gryffindor's glasses askew. "You don't know a thing, Potter," he spat, "A damned thing! All you feel is jealousy, and that makes you selfish. And only for the sake of Ron will I say this, Potter: For all the years I've had the displeasure of knowing your acquaintance, you have *never* been selfish.Ó  
  
Harry was taken aback and gawked at Draco, who let go of his robes and backed away, still holding Harry's eyes with his own. He looked a dangerous feral cat, his hair standing up and eyes narrowed to icy slits. Harry had never seen Malfoy so angry. Yes, during fist fights and the like at school, but not such *personal* anger before. He blinked, drawing a blank. Draco took a deep breath, slipping his eyes shut and clenching his fists. Then he reopened those deep orbs and moved up to Harry, tipping his face so he met the green gaze levelly. The Gryffindor was very conscious of Draco's hot, moist breath hitting his mouth, smarting his lips. "I hate to admit it, but it's true, Potter. I'm willing to not kill you if you're willing to do the same. For Ron."  
  
His eyes burned through Harry's gaze and the Gryffindor could think of nothing to do but nod dumbly. Draco smiled, a touch relieved. He nodded once curtly, then started to leave. At the door, he hesitated and turned back to the still rather shocked Gryffindor.  
  
"Now, this doesn't mean we're friends, Potter. I will only treat you civil when Ron is present. But otherwise, nothing has changed."  
  
These words greatly sobered Harry and he met Malfoy's gaze measuredly and replied, "I wouldn't think it to be any other way."  
  
He waited a little before leaving the the room to go outside where Ron and Hermione were deep in conversation about whether Draco's butt beat out Harry's. Hermione was convinced that Harry's was fuller, and Draco's a bit flat. Ron disagreed, saying that since Draco was so thin, you would think that, but in reality, it was quite nicely rounded out. They stopped talking and glanced up as Harry settled down in-between them. He looked hard at Ron before turning to Hermione, "So, what are you two talking about?"  
  
"Oh, nothing much," Hermione said, waving her hand desmisevely.  
  
"Yes, nothing much that I still think is less much than that other much we discussed."  
  
Harry and Hermione both blinked. Ron rolled his eyes.  
  
"Never mind. Lemonade, Harry? Yeah, you just *bend* on over right there....."  
  
A/N: A little note: I really *do* have a National Hug Day every week and once I asked this lesbian (proven and proud) for a hug and she turned me down. *sulks* It was a rather heavy blow to my self esteem, eh? Ah well, the guys always say yes! *mishevious grin* And one more thing, I'M GOING TO ATTEMPT TO WRITE HET!! But I need the most scandalous couple you can come up with!! HELP!!  
  
~*Villain*~ 


	10. Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

Ron's Worst Nightmare  
  
  
  
  
A/N: THANX TO Danielle: *giggles* Perhaps that is just a little TOO scandalous! Hana-chan: Yes, I was trying to make them as differently the same as possible.... O_O chimerical: *bursts into tears* T-t-thank you! Gah! *sniffles and grins evilly* Yes indeed, such a different sense of humor! MAHAHAHA!! harrysgirl: DING DING DING DING DING!! You win!  
  
ONE MORE little note, peeps, I'm warning you that this chapter is extremely saddish. *sobs*   
  
Chapter Ten: Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow  
  
Ron beamed at Harry as he and Draco left the kitchen. Harry gave him a forced smile in return, and when the boys were out of view, punched the wall.  
  
"Ow!"  
  
Hermione looked up from her book wryly, "That was smart, genius."  
  
Breathing hard, Harry flopped down in a chair across from her. "I can't believe I ever agreed to treat him nice in front of Ron. I know it's only been a week, but it's killing me! He's so two faced. I just know that he's having tons of fun doing this to me. All Malfoys are natural liars, so this probably is just a big game to him. Well, it isn't to me. I'm going to find out why he's changed."  
  
"Maybe he really does care about Ron. Harry, you would do anything for Ron! We both would, and he for us. So do this little thing for him. Don't let Malfoy get under your skin. I've told you before Harry, Ron's seemed to have found Malfoy's heart." She shrugged, saying simply, watching her friend out of the corner of her eye, "He could've brought up the detention any time at school you know, Harry. But didn't. And you know that people would've believed him. You have a tendency to wear your heart over your face like a mask that can change with every expression. That's how you've always been, and regardless of Malfoy using it before - he could've really gotten you with this..... but didn't all the same."  
  
For what seemed the thousandth time, Harry had to grudgingly admit to himself of Hermione's impeccable correctness. "Never thought of that," he muttered. Then, sighing, he leaned over and kissed her warmly on the cheek, grabbing an apple on his way out the kitchen door. When he was gone, Ginny sidled in, arms full of Teen Witch magazines. Hermione set down her book and looked with great interest over the covers as Ginny sat down. The flaming redheaded girl looked towards the door that Harry had walked through and grinned. "What's up now?"  
  
"These boys," said Hermione, rolling her eyes, "They make everything so complicated."  
  
Ginny laughed, "Hell, wouldn't I be the one to know. You're forgetting that I at one time lived with seven males in the house!"   
  
"You poor, poor thing."  
  
"Hey, it wasn't all bad. My brothers are pretty popular - and you know what that means!"  
  
The two girls met eyes and giggled in unison, "Hot guy friends over!"  
  
~*~  
  
Draco nuzzled Ron's neck while the Gryffindor tried to ask him about Harry.  
  
"So, what happened? One day you guys were at each others' throats, next day you're civil. Why-" but he was cut off as Draco captured his mouth in a hot kiss. He moaned, running his hand through the silvery locks of Draco's hair, twining his fingers in the Angel soft tresses.  
  
Someone cleared their throat, sending both boys crashing to the ground in surprise. Draco picked himself up first, glaring daggers at Harry, who grinned wickedly in return. Then he helped Ron up. They all looked at each other for a moment, Ron blushing like crazy, Draco looking very well like a stone statue, and Harry looking deeply perturbed. Then they heard Ginny's voice carry over the lawn, breaking the silence.  
  
"Ron! Can you come here, please? Hermione and I are having a little disagreement over this thing - I know you like the Chudley cannons and there's this hottie I just KNOW is on the team! He's in Witch Weekly, will you come and look?"  
  
Sighing exasperatedly, Ron glanced at Harry and Draco, who now had their hands balled into fists at their sides, and were holding a very fierce staring contest. Ron shrugged and made his way to the house where he found Hermione and Ginny bickering over a knockout brunette by the name of Juan Pablo.  
  
"What do you want, Potter? I'm beginning to think you miss my company."  
  
"Shut it, Malfoy. I only came out here to ask you something because-"  
  
"Sorry, Potter. I'm taken as you can well see." He motioned back at the house. Harry grimaced.  
  
"Is all you think about yourself? If you would actually let me finish what I have to say..... Hermione made a point that bugged me and I needed to ak you about it."  
  
Malfoy sat there, looking expectant. Harry glared and the silver eyes crinkled in a grin, "Oh, you're done, then?"  
  
Harry growled and Draco chuckled, "Go ahead and ask away, Potter."  
  
"Why didn't you ever spill about the detention? You could've started a lot of rot going around about me. But you didn't. Why?" He unconsciously moved closer to Draco, who had slipped back into the impassive mask, though Harry could almost detect the different thoughts flickering through his pewter glazed eyes.  
  
Draco took a long time to answer, perhaps just making Harry impatient, or maybe being careful about the words he chose for what he said next; "I don't really know, Potter." He turned to look at Harry full on, his arms crossed over his chest, face hard. "Perhaps I am more human than you care to believe."  
  
Harry lowered his gaze and whispered, wringing his wrists, "Thanks."  
  
"Don't be foolish and thank me, Potter. It probably would've hurt me just as much as it would've hurt you. It would have just affected you more personally in the long run."  
  
Green eyes met silver. "Did you feel anything that day?"  
  
Draco looked away, "Why are you asking me this now of all times?"  
  
"Because I've wanted to know for quite a while," said Harry, taking Draco's chin in his hand and slowly moving a tan finger over the shorter boy's cheek. Against his will, Draco leaned into the touch, still not meeting Harry's eyes. Taking a deep breath, Harry closed his eyes and leaned forward, putting his lips ever so softly against Draco's. The Slytherin stiffened instantly and tried to move away but Harry had wrapped his arms around to hold Draco's back, pulling him closer. Draco's arms were pinned between his and Harry's chests, and he couldn't move - even to stop his eyes from rolling shut and his lips from parting to admit the probing tongue. He bit back a blissful sigh as he felt the familiar touch on and in his mouth. But he could not ignore the guilty nagging in the back of his mind of a brilliant red mop of hair or those kind brown eyes. He snapped open his eyes and glared scathingly at Harry while struggling in the other boy's grip, shoving him away roughly.  
  
They both faced each other, chests heaving. Harry looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, as if just realizing what he had done. Draco wiped his mouth and grimaced. Harry groaned and dropped to the ground, holding his head tightly in his hands. "I'm so sorry," he mumbled audibly, shoulders slumping. Draco felt both like holding the boy, or giving him a swift - but painful - kick in the shins. Deciding against both, he slid down beside Harry and looked at him hard. "What the hell was that bit of insanity for?"  
  
"I don't know," wailed Harry piteously, slamming his fists against the ground. Draco bit his lip, trying to drown out the pleasant tingling over his flesh.  
  
Deciding bluntness was the best call for such a situation, Draco grabbed Harry's shoulders harshly and spun him around to face him. "I don't love you, Potter. I never have and I'm pretty sure I never will. Don't you say a word of this - but I love Ron dearly, you prat. I can't do this to him, no matter how much it tempts me."  
  
"You *love* him," Harry confirmed weakly, his voice small.  
  
"Not how you think. Not yet anyway. I love him, yes, but I'm not *in* love with him. I love him how you love him, Potter. Like a close friend."  
  
Harry looked up knowingly, "Yeah, a close friend that you snog like mad. No, Malfoy - you're falling *in* love with him. I see it, Hermione sees it. The way you guys look at each other - it's the way I look at you."  
  
Draco had never seen such a sad expression on Harry's face. The boy looked crushed. And it was all because of him. That day in detention - it had just been an innocent experiment. Meant to prove whether Harry Potter was gay or not. He frowned. Potter had brought up a good subject though. Was he falling in love with Ron? Falling *in* love. Hmmm, something to definitely think on.  
  
"Buck up, Potter," he said with as much kindness as he could conjure up, rubbing Harry's shoulder in a brotherly manner. "You can have anyone at all."  
  
"Except for the one I want."  
  
"Stop it! You can't have me. It'll never happen, Harry." The green eyes rose, surprised at the sound of his first name. Draco resisted smacking his lips. The word sounded odd on his tongue when not used bitingly towards the other boy. "I love Ron. Only Ron. I - I don't know yet about you, Potter. But I belong to Ron now." Then after a moments hesitation, he said softly, "But I swear to you, I will never forget that night in detention. Who ever could?" He lifted Harry's chin gingerly so that their eyes locked. Harry's eyes brimmed with tears and Draco kept firm reign on his feelings. Then, with a glance around to see if Ron or anyone was about, he kissed Harry very gently on the mouth. The black haired boy looked a touch startled, but quickly fell into the kiss. But Draco drew back before it could be deepened.  
  
He rose to his feet, thinking it appropriate to leave the other boy. Looking down at Harry with hard slate gray eyes, he lightly brushed the other boy's forehead, his finger hovering over the bolt scar for a quick instant. And then he walked away.  
  
Harry sobbed drily into his hands, cursing his feelings, cursing Draco, cursing Ron, cursing everyone. Then cursing with passion his own heart.  
  
A/N: Whew, I've just been rolling 'em out, eh? Okay, I know this is super short and all, but it is very meaningful and I promise the next chapter will be jam packed with action, angst, and intrigue..... Oh yes, and the chappies are going to be jumping around a bit. I suck at writing different time frames and the passage of time. Moldy Muffins. I'll try and drop hints about how long apart they are. Like chap 11 will be a few days after this one, ect. Be patient with me. Love you all! Au revior!   
  
~*Villain*~ 


	11. Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Ron's Worst Nightmare  
  
  
  
  
A/N: THANX TO Danielle: Ooh, and more twists in store! Mus4u: *shrieks* Not the BRADY BUNCH!!! Arrrgh! Gumlick The Rickmaniac: Oh, try and not be so hard on Harry. Poor pathetic sod that he is. chimerical: *giggles* How right you are! And that love will be put to a test soon enough. *mysterious smile* Hana-chan: I was tempted to have a threesome, but ix-nayed it in the end. moj: *squeals* You, love, just gave me a very nasty naughty idea for some upcoming chappies...... Eriol: Oh, your reviews just brighten my day, love! Robert D: Gee, who knows? scythefire: I know, I've been beating myself up for the change in Draco. I'll try to change him back a bit, I swear!  
  
*******And a note before you go on. This is a very iffy chappie, peeps. Extremely so. *cringes* Don't hate me for it! *points accusingly at smirking muses, who wave gleefully* They did it! Gaa!********  
  
Chapter Eleven: Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder  
  
"I wonder why Harry's been acting so strange lately," mused Ron quietly, his head lying comfortably in Draco's lap. The blonde shrugged, fixing his eyes on Harry while he stroked Ron's hair. The seeker was at the opposite end of the garden, de-gnoming with a giggly Hermione and Ginny. Laughing hysterically, the two girls tackled him and threw him to the ground where they all burst out laughing, though Harry much quieter as the girls wriggled over him like two very shrill and enthusiastic worms.   
  
Mrs. Weasly stepped out of the house and looked with great amusement on her face at all the teens acting like tiny toddlers. Ron quickly sat up and moved away from Draco, shooting him a sly grin. Then the plump woman called out to all of them, "I need to step out for a while, dears. Fred, George and Lee have gotten into a bit of a bind and I need to go down to the Ministry for a while to try and get them out of it with your father! I might stay over night to do some shopping and see Mrs. Green, so Bill might stop by and check on things. Will you all be okay while I'm gone, then?" They all nodded in unison and she beamed at them and went back into the house, muttering darkly to herself about what she did to deserve such boys as her twins.  
  
"Ooh, the house all to ourselves," said Ginny excitedly, plopping down on the ground next to her brother, patiently ignoring the platinum blonde right next to him. Hermione joined them too, dragging Harry along with her. They all sat in a crooked circle, Harry keeping careful to avoid Draco's eyes - or even looking in the direction of the Slytherin altogether.  
  
Hermione fiddled with a loose strand of chestnut hair, her worried gaze flicking back and forth between Harry and Malfoy. Something was up, she could tell right away. Though she was distracted from her musings the next moment by Ron and Ginny happily prattling off about the history of the twins times with the Ministry. Draco politely covered a yawn, leaning on Ron's shoulder, and Harry lay back on the ground, and set his dark head on his crossed arms. He squinted up at the sky, the green eyes narrowing behind the thick black frames. Smiling he lifted a hand to point at a puffy cloud above their heads. "It looks like a toaster."  
  
"No it doesn't," said Ginny, forgetting momentarily the subject on which she had been speaking, "It looks more like a turtle. See the head?"  
  
"Both of you are wrong," Hermione said, "It looks like Hogwarts: A History." At this they all hissed and stuck their tongues out. Then all of the teens sprawled back on the lawn and gazed up at the sky, every few minutes someone's hand shooting up to point out another white shape up in the clear blue heavens above. The only one who did not join was Draco, who had nestled quite comfortably in the crook of Ron's arm. He closed his eyes and dozed in the warm sun, listening to Harry and Ginny bicker about the shapes they saw and Hermione insist upon them all resembling books she had read.  
  
Ron sighed and rested his chin on the crown of Draco's head. Draco could see narrowly out the corner of his eye Ginny purse her lips and Hermione look like she was trying to act like nothing was amiss. But Potter was doing the best of all. He had just shut his eyes, jaw visibly tightening, still arguing with the youngest Weasly.  
  
Before Harry and Ginny could begin a yelling match, Hermione suggested something that sent Ginny running to the house, cackling madly, and all three boys into an uncomfortable silence.  
  
"You guys can take this test off of a muggle magazine I brought with me!"  
  
The theme that week was 'Who Is Your Boyfriend, Really?' Each boy would answer the question according to what they would do in certain situations. Ron wrinkled his nose at this, Harry pouted, and Draco remained completely impassive. But Hermione and a very giggly Ginny were contagious and the boys couldn't help but grudgingly agree to play along. They would ask Ron, then Harry, then Draco five questions, which the boys would answer to their best ability accordingly and then say why they chose their answer.  
  
"Okay, question one: What would you bring her on your first date?" said Hermione, looking at each boy in turn.  
  
Ginny read off the answers, "A. flowers and chocolate; B. a condom; C. a romantic movie; or D. nothing."  
  
Harry shrugged, "I don't know. I guess flowers and chocolate."  
  
"A romantic movie," said Ron, grinning.  
  
Draco took the longest. He contemplated the answers, and when he finally raised his head to answer, everyone was leaning forward eagerly to hear. "Nothing," he said finally, taking private amusement at their expressions. Ginny looked downright grouchy, Hermione looked surprised, Ron had narrowed his eyes and was grinning, and Harry just looked blank and pouty.  
  
"Why?" Ginny finally asked what was on all their minds.  
  
"Well," said Draco levelly, "I wouldn't know this person very well by only the first date, because I don't tend to go out with my friends. So, how would I know if she liked chocolate or was touchy about weight? Or had allergies? And I wouldn't take a movie, because she would apply that to me wanting to get into her pants through sappiness, and I'm not good with chick flicks. The condom was a no brainer. And besides, it dulls the effect." His smirk grew as Ginny blushed furiously and he added airily, "Besides, I think *I* am quite enough by myself for any date."   
  
Hermione cleared her throat and read the next question, "If you were going out, where would you take her?"  
  
"A. the beach to watch the sunset; B. the woods to have a spiritual dinner in the wild; C. a movie of her choice; D. a strip club."  
  
"I think I'd take her to the beach to watch the sunset. There is nothing more romantic than that."  
  
"The woods" said Harry, "It would be peaceful and quiet so we could talk and enjoy the wilderness."  
  
"I would let her pick a movie. Women love it when they're in charge of things."  
  
Hermione beamed, "Good answers you guys. Now, question three: If she came out after trying something on, asking you how she looked - and looked terrible - what would you say?"  
  
"A. tell her the truth, peach is not her color; B. avoid the subject altogether and compliment her eyes instead; C. pretend to see a friend and run for it; or D. break down and start wailing about how her beauty is too much for you to bear."  
  
"Let's see, I would totally avoid the subject," Ron jumped to his feet, pulling Hermione up with him, "And just gaze into her eyes, stroking her face and plant a sweet kiss on her lips." Hermione giggled and slapped his chest playfully. They sat back down while Harry answered.  
  
"I think-"  
  
"And let us not forget, Mr. Potter," said Ginny sternly, "the last time we dragged you shopping with us and I asked you for your advice. You took off like Lockhart after hearing there's a 50% sale on mirrors. So I think we have your answer already." Harry blushed and chuckled.  
  
Draco sniffed, "Well, I would tell her the truth. Though it wouldn't happen, not when *I'm* shopping with her." Harry rolled his eyes as Draco continued, "And when a guy can really tell the truth without cowering away from the well known female rage, it really proves he wants her to look her best in the end." He bowed as Ginny and Hermione both applauded.  
  
He's already winning them over with this stupid act, growled Harry mentally to himself.   
  
"Okay, fourth question: If sex ever came up in the conversation, what would you do?"  
  
"A. change the subject; B. tell her all about your other girlfriends and their sexy habits; C. just let her talk and say nothing at all; or D. just get to it and shag like rabbits!"  
  
Ron swallowed uncomfortably, "Well, I guess I would change the subject" He shifted, lowering his eyes.  
  
Harry smiled, "I'd just let her ramble on. That way I wouldn't seem too pushy, or too unwilling."  
  
Draco arched a perfect eyebrow. "If she was talking about sex so much, it's obviously on her mind. I'd go for it, and if I took it wrong (which I doubt *very* much) I could just shrug it off easily and say that she brought it up. It's a win win situation. I do it and get some, or make a mistake and then come off as a complete sentimentalist, confused by the conversation and only wanting to please her."  
  
Hermione laughed, "You must be an expert on this stuff, Malfoy. Your answers sound so professional." Draco only smiled mysteriously, so she asked the final question. "Now boys, this one isn't a multiple choice. You have to describe your wedding. In detail."  
  
Draco smirked, "Not the wedding night?"  
  
Hermione glared, trying not to smile, "No!"  
  
Ron frowned, "Isn't this the girl's job?"  
  
Ginny punched him in the shoulder, "Sexist pig!"  
  
Rubbing his aching shoulder, Ron sent a dark look at his sister, who stuck her tongue out at him in return and said primly, "Answer the question, Ronald!"  
  
"Oh, alright then! I think I'd have mine in the woods." His whole face softened as he closed his eyes. Hermione raised her eyebrows. "A huge old growth forest with panels of sun filtering through the trees and the warm smell of earth and plant life all around us. It would be very small, and simple dress." He looked at them all and then said bluntly, "Though there would be no wedding dress, you know." Ginny and Hermione fell silent, nodding. They had found out fifth year that Ron and Harry were gay. Ron had come out to his family the summer of fifth year and they had accepted it, for they had always suspected Percy of being gay (even though it turned out false when he married Penelope) and were fair people.  
  
They were all silent for a few moments until Harry broke in. "I would have mine in a huge gothic church with all the really intricate stained glass and towering stone pillars. Like Notre Dame or something. But I doubt it, can you even get married in a place like that without spending at least half of the world's money?"  
  
Ron pursed his lips in thought. "I don't know, but those places are the coolest. Your turn, Draco."  
  
Everyone looked at each other when Draco stood up and walked a few paces away, his back to them. The sunlight hit his hair at such an angle that it exploded into a shimmering brilliant mop of silvery white. He turned back to them, his eyes distant. Harry felt his chest tighten and he had to look away. Next to him, Hermione felt a smile tug at her lips. She always knew Malfoy couldn't be so bad, maybe she should take some time to talk to him later.  
  
"I would have it on the water's edge of the ocean. It would be at night also, with everyone dressed darkly so as not to obscure the atmosphere of peaceful nightfall. It would be on a night where the moon would cast a straight white path spearing right onto shore out of the water. And we would stand facing that pathway while we took our vows to each other. It would sort of be like accepting yourself through a gateway to a new life." He opened his eyes and looked back at them. Ron looked positively giddy with the idea, while Hermione and Ginny were wiping tears away from their eyes, swooning with the romance of the idea. Harry was the only one looking at him with loathing, his lips curled back from his teeth. Draco winked at him and sat down again next to Ron.  
  
The sun was setting and Hermione announced it was time to eat as her stomach let out a roaring grumble. The two girls skipped inside, tugging at Draco and bowling him over with questions upon questions of this and that. He allowed them to do what they wished, answering them patiently, but barely able to do so between their enthusiastic chattering. Ron and Harry followed more slowly behind them, walking with their hands shoved down in their pockets, shoulders hunched. It wasn't exactly their custom to open up like that. Though it had been fun, they wouldn't admit it. At the door, Ron craned his neck around and gazed back at the dying sun as it slipped beneath the line of the red bathed horizon. Harry looked at him, silently praising the red hair sparkling in curly locks of scarlet flame, licking at his face and down his neck, setting his brown eyes blazing.  
  
He tapped his friend on the shoulder, snapping him out of his reverie, and they went inside to eat.  
  
"Goodnight!" Ginny called to the boys as she ducked inside her bedroom. Hermione called out also, muffled by the closed door. Ron and Harry grunted in return, as Draco stayed silent. For a few seconds, the three boys stood at their doors, Harry resisting the urge to tug Ron quickly inside and flip Draco off. Instead he glowered darkly as Ron strode over to Draco on naked feet, gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, said good night, and dove back into his room, ranting on loudly about cold floors and no blasted socks about when he needed them.  
  
When the redhead was gone under his bed, searching valiantly for socks, Harry and Draco stood facing each other. Then Draco inclined his head slightly, sending his hair flowing over his face, eyes peeking beneath the shiny locks. Then a feral smile played over his sensuous lips and he said levelly, "Sleep well, Potter," and shut the door. In anger, Harry made an extremely rude gesture at the guest room and practically slammed the door behind him as he went inside to a confused Ron, who was holding up a mismatched pari of socks in his hands, one red and blue striped, riddled with holes, the other a faded, sickly mustard yellow.  
  
Back in his own room, Draco was laughing silently at Harry. Immature git, he chortled to himself. Then, lying down, he fell asleep. Shortly after, he slipped into a sea of vivid dreams containing a smiling Ron. And nightmares of the past.  
  
~*Dream Sequence of the Past*~  
  
The steaming water cascaded luxuriously over his ivory back, sliding down the curve of his spine as he arched his neck to put his face full into the blast of heat. His hair was slicked back, a quicksilver in the yellow light of the prefect baths. He did not hear someone else come in.  
  
Running his hand over his stomach, he tried to wash away the dirty feeling corroding his thoughts and nerve. The water felt suddenly harsh and the steamy air stifling to his rasping lungs. Subconsciously he scrubbed harder at his stomach and his torso, running stiff fingers over his arms like claws, nearly gouging the skin to rid it of the unseen filthiness. Sleet gray eyes slipped shut and the Angel's lips parted. In his pain, he did not hear the predatory chuckle of someone else in the room, watching him hungrily.  
  
Crystalline tears mixed to camouflage with the tinkling droplets of water running over his goose bumped flesh. Then the moving hands met a raw bruise and a gasp issued from the quivering mouth. He worried his lip as he gazed over the purple spot on his side. It glared back, angry and painful, reminding him he was nothing more than helpless skin for others to use at their leisure. Distracted with these realizations, he did not hear someone's robes slip to the floor with a slight swish.  
  
Sobbing drily into his hands, he bent over, thudding his head against the slicked white tiled wall. Black agony jabbed over his crown, stabbing through his muscles and bones to reach the tip of his heaving back. The slender, conditioned legs nearly gave out beneath the shivering figure as another sob choked from his beautiful white throat. With a silent voice, worn with screaming, he cursed himself for being who he was. A striking and alluring weakling. A chillingly beautiful boy with the unforgettable eyes that would capture your soul and condemn your heart to images of lust and passion. In remembering his hurts, he did not hear it when someone stood over him and smiled cruelly, reaching forward.  
  
A cool hand, dry and gentle, smoothed back the swept forward hair on his head and cupped the slightly pointed chin. The broken boy jumped and yanked his face from the person's grasp, slipping back over the tile until his back rammed into the wall, blocking his pathway to escape. Vision clouded with tears and water droplets, the boy looked up to see a hazy figure resembling a youth with light auburn hair and sturdy form. But when the unrecognizable figure came closer, the broken one saw clearly the beguiling teal eyes pierce his gaze. He quickly looked away, fear gripping him coldly and icing over his bones. A cry ripped through his body as two firm hands came out of nowhere to grasp his wrists painfully in a steady hold, yanking him unceremoniously to his tottery feet. The broken boy whimpered as his face was pushed firmly to the side and he felt the small and so nicely hated sensation of feather gentle lips brush over his collar bone and a quick tongue dart over his alabaster skin, tasting and feeling.  
  
The hands came again to seize his jutting hip bones, jarring him slightly. The tongue drew up his neck, grazing his cheek, and caressed the soft lids, lapping at the water and wiping the delicately curved lashes clean. Tensely, the broken boy tried to free himself, pinned back against the unyielding tile. But it was not to be so, for the instant he began to move on his own, the icy breath of the other boy breathed onto his ear in prickling cold heat, "Hey, beautiful. Have you missed me?"  
  
His breath coming in quick gasps, the broken boy squirmed and twisted, trying to get away from the teal eyed boy who held him so tightly, so painfully against the white tile. The ghostly white tiles, witness to many things.  
  
"Aw, come on, Draco. What would you be doing here, all alone without anybody else..... but waiting for me to come and *get* you?"  
  
"No Blaize," he begged, the words barely audible above the running water.   
  
The teal eyes narrowed and the full lips turned up into a greedy smile. "No?" he questioned, "No, Draco? Uh uh, you know that we don't take 'no' for an answer." Smiling lips moved over his quivering mouth, tongue slipping out to massage the bottom lip, teeth exposed to trap the sensitive flesh between them and suck on it lightly. The broken boy held back wincing, hoping that if he just kept still, it would go away.  
  
"Open your eyes. Now, Draco. Open them and look at me. See what you've done? Swaggering about like you do?" The tone turned dark. "Like you own the place, when in truth: We. Own. You." He sneered, "Huh, Malfoy? Why don't you open those fetching eyes, show me that twisted soul behind them." A sharp knee worked its way in between milky white thighs, shoving them roughly apart. "Why don't you let me have a peek, hmm?" Teal bored into swirling gray, and a smile once again graced the sweet lips. "That's my boy," he purred, "That's the Draco I know and love." He ground his hips into the other boy, noting pleasurably the small frightened whimpers mixing with the automatic moans of delectation emitting from the sprite mouth.  
  
His tan hand traveled down between their close bodies and the broken boy gasped, his eyes clouding over and mouth shaping wordless pleas, his small white hands moving in a pointless protest against the broad chest of his captor. The teal eyes burned with fire as he came forward to crush the pale boy's lips with his own, ravaging the fresh mouth harshly, raising brand new bruises over the deathly pallor of the down turned mouth.  
  
"Stop trying to fight me, Draco," he growled, raising a hand to strike away that scared look. "You can't run from me." He ended his oration with a chaste kiss, a long hand snaking its way to the back of the pale blonde's head and twining amongst the fine angel hair, pulling roughly back. The broken boy's neck arched and he gasped with pain as teeth traced over the skin. Then with a frightened cry he felt himself being forced down onto his knees. His eyes rose to meet those of the heated teal gaze, only to turn down at what he saw etched across the handsome features there. Weakly he pushed at the tanned knees and scraped at the skin, but the hand guiding his head was much too strong, as was the hand that came stinging across his cheek, snapping his head sharply to the side. Tears trailed silently down his face.  
  
"Oh..... Draco."  
  
//Draco twisted and turned in his sleep, moaning and whimpering in lost fear. But his dream faded and he breathed easier, the sweat cooling over his brow, the dirty feeling melting away from off his body. Relaxing, he slipped into subconscious again. Colors flickered about his head, and with a terrible clenching fear, he heard the words that iced his soul and the images that gripped his heart.//  
  
"My Dragon. Beautiful silver Dragon." The proficient callused fingers played over his skin, dancing at the beginning of his spine. He squirmed and tried in vain to twist from the bounds that held him, but it was no use. His father leaned down over him, the rancid smell of sweat, blood, and sex lingering over his flesh. Hot breath stung the Dragon's ear as words were hissed into the air, hanging like poison in his mind.  
  
"I will break you again, my Dragon. I will hate you as I do so. You are nothing but an ornament to anyone. Always remember, my Dragon. Always remember who owns you." A sharp pain at his tailbone, being dragged further as the sharp blade of the knife made its crimson way up his spine, leaving trails of scarlet blood in its wake. When it reached his neck, a harsh tongue would clean it all away, leaving only the painful sensation of drying cuts in tainted air.  
  
"Let me go," he demanded, determination swelling in his breast as the man he knew only as Lucius drew away from him. He felt confident as the pressing weight of his father left him, the awful feel of his hard skin hitting the stark white softness of the youth abating. Feeling him inside him, entering both his soul and his body the same. But it was all too soon to hope it was over. For next the Dragon child knew, his wrists were freed, as well as his legs, and instead he felt again the press of the stifling flesh, the heat of the moist breath, and the sting of the frosty gaze. He was flipped onto his back, facing Lucius. The man smiled cruelly, the effect on his usually calm and pleasing face utterly terrifying. The Dragon child cowered beneath it, moving his bloodied hands to steady himself. But before he could get his quaking limbs to comply, his father's hard right hand gripped his thigh and yanked him hard, so that he slid flat onto his back underneath the towering figure of a man who almost to the tee mirrored himself.  
  
"I want to see you struggle, Dragon. I want to hear you scream. To twist and to writhe with the painful pleasure of your punishment." He paused, separating his son's legs quickly, gaining a fearful gasp from the sensual lips of his Dragon. "You are too beautiful, my son. My Dragon. It will bring you nothing but pain in the end." The Dragon child screamed as his father moaned deeply within his throat. "Mine..... all mine, Dragon. Your beauty belongs all to me. Everything you will ever love and ever cherish. Will. Be. MINE."  
  
~*Ending Dream Sequence*~  
  
With a last explosion of shattering pain, Ron's face appeared out of nowhere, looking frightened and etched with pain. Draco cried out, thrashing in the sheets and sitting up rigidly. Tears welled up in his eyes as he hugged himself tightly, shivering in a cold that did not exist. Squeezing his eyes securely shut, he buried his face in his arms and sobbed into the unrelenting night.  
  
In the next room, Harry awoke to the sound of a cry. It was close and frantic. Looking wildly about, he saw nothing. His scar ached steadily on his forehead. Damn, he thought, this is what happens when three nights in a row you wake to cries in the night. I'm stressing myself too much! Blinking and trying to calm his buzzing nerves, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and reached over to poke Ron awake. Merlin knew it was Draco making all the blasted racket. He had heard the prat cry out in the night before, but never this loud. It was as if something had been ripped away from him. Shivering from the chill of the lingering cry, Harry felt beside him.  
  
Shaking his head and clearing his vision, he looked over and regarded the empty space next to him with mild surprise. Ron must've went to Draco. Harry thought bitterly, Malfoy must be crying out for a whole other bloody reason. The prat. He grimaced, clenching his fists.  
  
But deep down, Harry knew that that was not the case. He put on his glasses and turned on the light, climbing out of bed. The chill grew worse, as did the aching of his scar. Worried, he peered around the room with sleepy eyes, crossing his arms over his chest in his attempt at some warmth. Ron was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Biting his lip, Harry went over to the window to gaze out over the lawn. Funny, he had thought he'd locked the latch when he had gone to bed. Ron had told him to do so. He locked it and jumped as the door to the room swung open. Whipping around, automatically grabbing for his wand that wasn't there, Harry came face to face with a tear streaked Draco. He bit back a cry of surprise and instead backed away and took in his peer levelly, arching an eyebrow. The Slytherin looked like hell. And Harry told him so.  
  
"Shut up, Potter," Draco whispered in a raspy voice, looking about the room. "Where's Ron?"  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes, "What's wrong with you, Malfoy? Bad dreams?" He tried to make the last question biting, but something in the tone of the blonde's soft voice and the cornered look in his eyes warned Harry. Draco stumbled to the bed, Harry right behind him, and gingerly touched the pillow where Ron's head should've been lying, tracing the faint indent of the boy's silhouette.  
  
"Where is he, Potter?" he asked again, as if life and death itself depended on Harry's answer.  
  
"I don't-" but before Harry could finish his answer, a stabbing pain shot through his head, laced with dizzying power. He slumped to his knees, Draco right there to catch him. A fear ignited within him, and as he looked up into Draco's face - it was confirmed.  
  
"My gods," breathed Draco, his skin going numb, "They have him."  
  
A/N: *looking extremely embarrassed* Sorry about that unexpected *cough* flashback. I got into a really odd writing funk and wrote bunches of awry swahooli. So, therefor the rating has been upped to NC-17 and the genre changed too. Oh, and I assure you, it'll only get worse. I know, thanx for the warning, eh? ^_^  
  
~*Villain*~ 


	12. An Eye for an Eye

Ron's Worst Nightmare  
  
  
  
  
A/N: THANX TO Hana-chan: Yes, the flashbacks *were* a little iffy, I admit. *grin* YoungPadfoot: *giggles like such a girl!* Hee, thanky. And how do I manage it? It's all for you peoples, so it HAS to be good! Rose: Welcome aboard, darling, glad to have you! Thief: *grin* here it is then, enjoy! JollyGreen: I'm flattered! *blush* And as for the magazine questions, the answers are all in order, Ron, Harry, Draco. Robert D: *snort* I'll keep it in mind, lovey. *_~ Jack Flinch: YAY, I'm crunchy now! scythfire: I'm begining to get the feeling no one really liked the flashbacks.... Lulu-Chan: *crosses fingers, too* Me, too! leanne: Ah, so good it is to know I'm influencing the youth!! ^_^ Danielle: Tanky ^_^ sabellestarte: Ooh, I tried to hurry - ish! chimerical: Oh, it pleases me so to have someone so loyal! *sob*  
  
Chapter Twelve: An Eye for an Eye  
  
"The have him? You mean he's gone? As in 'GONE'?!" Harry sprang to his feet, the stinging scar forgotten. Draco watched him impassively from the floor, his eyes glinting macabrely in the moonlight. He lips pressed into a thin line as Harry began to pace frantically. The Gryffindor started ranting off to himself and ignoring Draco, who was in fact thinking of a humane way to shut the blockhead up without spilling too much blood in the process.  
  
"It's all my fault!"  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes. "Don't be stupid, Potter. Although I'm finding out that for you stupidity in unavoidable."  
  
"They were probably aiming for me instead and just made a mistake," wailed Harry pitifully.  
  
"Potter, calm down for bloody sakes."  
  
"I could die!"  
  
The blonde sighed wistfully, "Only if. But you're wrong, Potter. They weren't after you."  
  
"My best friend. I can't believe it!" Harry was clearly not paying a scrap of attention to Draco as he paced the room, clutching his head and positively thrumming with pent up tension. So Draco rolled his eyes and stuck out his foot, sending Harry crashing to the floor. Before the frantic seeker could pick himself up, Draco planted himself resolutely on the middle of Harry's back. While the green eyed boy continued to flail about, Draco calmly gave him a thwap on the back of the head which accomplished absolutely nothing but sending Harry into more desperate waggles for freedom.  
  
"Get off, Malfoy! What do you think you're do-"  
  
"Shut up Potter, you twit. Stop wriggling about. The only reason I am even touching you is so that I may try and pound a new idea into your impossibly thick skull. Now, shut the bloody hell up." To his mild surprise, Harry did indeed become quiet, biting his lip and just lying still, his nose pressed to the carpet.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Draco continued, "It isn't your fault, surprisingly. Sorry to break it you and your hero sized ego, Potter, but not everything on the face of the planet evolves around you and your rotting scar." He ignored Harry's startled (and if somewhat panicked) look and said coldly, "They took Ron to get to me. And that is why you are still here, much to the furor of us all I am sure. But they need to get to me, and that is why they didn't risk kidnapping you, Golden Boy. Because I really don't give a damn about *your* well being." Harry winced at the harsh words, but managed to crane his neck around enough to say clearly, "Why didn't they just steal you if it's *you* they're after in the first place?"  
  
"Because, you dolt, this is Lucius we're dealing with. He loves to play his sick little games and torment the unwilling players. He's just teasing us, luring the both of us who he needs to acquire into a deadly snare. That way he won't have to take us by force and risk all sorts of protective charms placed over either of us. Killing two birds with one stone," said Draco bemusedly, "But regardless of the dangerous gamble we would be taking, we have to go after Ron. What choice do we have when we're what they want, therefor the only ones who can keep Ron safe?" He looked at Harry and the sprawling boy was glad he was lying down for the expression of Draco's face would have surely floored him: It was contorted into such a terrible look of remorse and fear. Though in truth it was just a ghostly sheen over the violent black rage heating beneath.  
  
"You mean that you want us to sneak off and attack your fa- Lucius? Shouldn't we at least contact someone in case something goes wrong?"  
  
One of the perfect shaped eyebrows arched up cynically as the mask slipped back over his face to hide the emotions within. A tight smile played over his lips. "Why, Potter. Is it really *you* in that gawky frame suggesting *help* from *adults*?"  
  
Harry glared hotly and spat, "Well, Malfoy, there's a lot more at stake now."  
  
"Haven't you been listening to a *word* I've said," cried Draco, leaping to his feet and throwing up his arms in exasperation. But Harry only picked himself up and dusted himself off, saying flatly, "You mean besides all the insults you've been throwing at me."  
  
"Oh, don't be such a monkey, Potter."  
  
"Draco Malfoy just called me a monkey. The world is going to collapse on itself in a matter of seconds."  
  
The aforementioned monkey caller gave Harry a wry look. "We don't have time to argue, Potter. If we're going to go after Ron, we might as well do it now before Mrs. Weasly or Bill shows up to stop us. We haven't much time, knowing Lucius. He grows bored easily." Draco went to the window and grasped the sill. "We'll have to take the brooms if we want to be fast. And it might be useful to have that odd cloak of yours, too."  
  
"Give me a minute to wake Hermione and Ginny."  
  
Draco pursed his lips. "Are you sure it would be wise to let them tag along? This is not a petty midnight escapade around the school halls. But you've always been one to put your friends' necks out after all," commented Draco drily, coming back from the window to stand in front of Harry. The raven haired boy only glared and rushed out of the room. A few minutes later a bleary eyed Ginny and a worried Hermione ambled through the door. Bushy hair bouncing in unruly frizz, the brunette threw her arms around Harry's neck. Ginny just looked stunned and sat down heavily on the bed. Seeing her expression, Draco went out on a rickety limb and sat down next to her. She met his earnest eyes dully and before he could move, she fell into his stiff and somewhat surprised embrace, sobbing. Draco went stiff backed and lightly patted her head, leaning as far as he could away from her.  
  
Hermione drew away from Harry and stroked back his bangs from his sweaty forehead. "We need to hurry, you guys," she said shakily, meeting each of their eyes in turn, "But how will we get there?"  
  
"Brooms," said Draco, carefully disentangling himself from a shivering Ginny. Hermione nodded and slipped her arms around her friend. "C'mon, Gin," she whispered, pulling the redhead to her feet, "We need to go get Ron back." At her brother's name, Ginny's head came up and she set her tear streaked face into such a look of determination that Draco almost felt a pang of sympathy for the Death Eater who got in-between her and her brother.  
  
When they had gotten the brooms out, Harry immediately mounted, as did Draco. Hermione hopped up behind Draco and Ginny perched behind Harry. After a quick kickoff, they flew up high into the cover of the dark clouds lacing the navy sky. They cut through the misty condensed liquid like knives through butter, sending streams of wispy cloud trailing behind them.   
  
Hermione leaned up over Draco's shoulder and yelled shrilly, "Do you know where to go, then?"  
  
Draco craned his neck around and answered over his shoulder, "The Malfoy Mansion."  
  
Hermione felt a chill play down her spine at the mention of the accursed house. She had once heard someone at school refer to it as a place "-where mudbloods can really find a place..... beneath the floors." Unconsciously she tightened her grip around Draco's wasp thin waist. Behind them, Harry and Ginny swept up beneath, following grimly. Harry's knuckles were white, so tight was his hold on the broom handle. Flaming red hair whipped like a blazing banner out behind the lower broom from Ginny, who had her head buried into Harry's shoulder, fighting back tears with worry over her brother.  
  
The flight was long, freezing cod, and eerily quiet. All of Draco's thoughts were flitted with lurid memories of what he had witnessed in past the times at his old home. Dungeons below their floors, medieval torture devices. His father was widely known as a collector of such things. He laughed humorlessly, his voice lost on the wind. And they all thought that it was *just* to collect.  
  
For all he knew, Voldemort, the Dark Lord himself was there waiting, too. Harry would fall right into his clutches, just as he himself would fall into his father's. And what of Granger and Ron's sister? Though Draco wouldn't openly admit it, ever, he really wanted no harm to come to those two girls, they had treated him fairly while he had been in their company. The thought of them getting hurt pained him deeper than he cared to admit at the time.  
  
And then of course there was Ron. Draco felt cold, and not just from the icy wind or the clouds clinging to his flesh. This was inside seeping out over his skin like a vile potion. He wanted to sob like Ginny, but he was the key in Ron's rescue. A plan was formulating in his mind as he flew swiftly over the landscape. If worse came to worse..... Draco himself could always make the ultimate sacrifice.  
  
Dipping beneath the thin layer of frosted gray clouds, Draco squinted over the dismal earth far below. Mist blocked much of the view, and it was hard to see anything at all through the gloom. He glanced down at Harry, his eyes blending so much with the surrounding dark silvers and grays. The other boy seemed to be concentrating very hard on searching the grounds. It was with the look Draco had christened the "Seeker Look". Potter will find it without a doubt, thought Draco sourly. We can't have that. He'll end up bumbling his way - and all of ours' too - into one of Lucius' many traps bordering the perimeter of Malfoy Manor.  
  
So Draco redoubled his efforts, fueled by the instinctual rivalry and shot his broom almost in a headlong dive, causing Hermione to squeal with fright and grip him even harder, practically crushing his ribs. But he ignored her and sped through the mist, dodging trees that appeared out of a freezing ghost land. Draco allowed himself a bitter smile, leaning heavily into his broom as he heard Ginny's screech behind him. Potter must've dived, too. Like Draco knew he would.  
  
The brooms fought through the thick sea of mist hanging as a ghostly blanket of ice over the wet ground. Harry and Draco weaved in and out of the trees, twisting and turning with the sleek grace only seekers could truly possess.  
  
For a fleeting second, the sun rose and the mist became semi warm clouds. Green eyes framed by thick glasses shifted into a warm brown gaze framed with nicely freckled skin. And Draco did not feel this terrible cold racking his body as a shivering fever, but a pleasant feeling of twining through the clouds on a fresh Summer day with a boy who seemed to really care about him.  
  
Ron.  
  
"Damn," he hissed, "Damn you, Lucius. You miserable bastard."  
  
As the two speeding brooms crested a small rise, flying smoothly now over the mist, Draco saw the great manor looming over them on the top of a jagged hill, the giant white moon sitting behind it as a floating silver medallion. The last of the sweet memory of Draco and Ron's first flight together melted away, replaced fully by the sight of this gruesome domicile. He yanked the broom to a jarring stop, Hermione knocking into him and hitting her chin painfully on his jutting shoulder blade.  
  
Harry pulled to a stop a little behind with Ginny, looking around inquisitively. "What is it?" he asked. Draco dismounted and on contact with the ground, instantly sunk ankle deep into a reeking bog. Hermione stepped off lightly behind him and Ginny pulled up her nightgown before splotching wetly down off the broom, Harry reaching out to steady her. Then his wide green eyes turned and looked hard at Draco and he seemed ready to yell when the blonde turned his face up to the sky and breathed distantly, slipping his eyes shut, "You don't see it, do you? This could really prove to be a hassle." He hugged himself as if cold and bowed his head. Automatically the others made their way closer, dragging their feet wetly through the protesting muck. But the pewter eyes snapped open and he said flatly to no one in particular, "I need something sharp. The only chance we have to get in is if you are able to *see*." They must've looked confused because Draco then reached forward and nimbly plucked a hairpin out of Ginny's hair, allowing a loose curl of fire down her pale cheek. "In other words," he continued ruefully, "you need some of my blood. *Malfoy* blood." Next he took the sharp edge of the pin and started dragging it harshly over his sensitive skin on the underline of his arm. A thin line of blood seeped into view and Harry lunged forward, grabbing Draco's hands and wrenching the pin from the smaller boy's grip.  
  
"What in bloody hell do you think you're doing," he screeched, having pinned the stony faced Draco against the gnarled trunk of a tree and holding his hands firmly above the blonde head. Draco was livid and began to struggle.  
  
"Are you mad?" he hissed.  
  
Harry snorted, "You're asking *me* this?"  
  
"Don't you understand! You need my blood to see the mansion."  
  
Ginny frowned, eyeing the still oozing cut marring the pale skin. "Like Hogwarts," she mused. "If it means getting Ron any quicker..... but don't go mutilating yourself! Isn't there a -   
*cleaner* - route to take?"  
  
Draco stared at her blankly for several moments before looking slowly back to his arm which was arched up above his head from Harry's firm hold. Hermione, clucking and tutting like a dead ringer for Madam Pomfrey, moved her wand over his wound, sealing it up. He gazed at it numbly while Ginny and Hermione both fussed over him mercilessly, each bickering over a plan of action. The redhead was ranting on about nonsense and Hermione was trying desperately to analyze the situation sensibly. Then they turned on Harry and squalled at him loudly for just standing there like a louse and gawking.  
  
A few minutes past with Draco much enjoying himself. Golden Boy getting lectured while *he* was petted and pampered. Then the more mature and practical side of Draco Malfoy took control and he decided that it was certainly over due time to go. So he asked what way they thought he could get his blood.  
  
"I'll have to somehow cut myself," he said logically, "Then you can just pick a scab or something. Otherwise you'll be destroyed once our boundary spells track you. My blood will be an authorization by one of the Malfoy house. Lucius would always carry around a vile of blood with him for unexpected visitors and the like. It's that or you'll be killed on the spot." Draco slumped down next to the tree and looked up at the three Gryffindors. What company I keep in this quaint little group, he thought sardonically, Harry Potter, the hero of Gryffindor and a God to the whole blasted wizarding world; Hermione Granger, muggle-born genius and Head Girl; Ginny, the best chaser Hogwarts' seen in years. And then there was him: Draco Malfoy. Need I say more?  
  
Hermione plopped down beside him and gave him a long searching look. Then she smiled sadly and said rather out of the blue; "You're not so terrible, Draco Malfoy."  
  
The mist clung to all their heads and wrapped around each individual hair. It ended up taming Hermione's wild frizz, much to her delight.   
  
By the time Draco had convinced them that a little cut is all it would take, the moon had risen to rest atop the uppermost tower of the Manor, perched upon the tallest spire to its highest peak in the velvety black sky. Hermione was the one who performed the actual cutting, causing Draco less pain than he had deemed possible in such a case.  
  
"Okay, all set. Ginny, I know you have that scab left on your knee from Crookshanks and if you pick that off, it should suffice. Correct?" Draco nodded solemnly, gripping his wrist to staunch the flow of blood somewhat. Ginny obediently ripped the clotted scab part way off, wincing, and let Draco press his wrist to the reopened wound. Next Hermione neatly made a small cut on her own wrist and pressed it firmly to Draco's. Last of all, Harry was inspecting himself for scabs, but found none. Then Ginny pointed out the gash he acquired from a perilously swinging Quidditch bat.  
  
Instantly he flushed and glared hotly at her. Hermione rolled her eyes and said reasonably, "Harry, I don't want to open anyone else up." She smiled slyly. "If you want, Ginny and I won't look."  
  
Harry made a face and whined, "But-"  
  
"*BUTT* what Harry?"  
  
"Oh!" He stomped over resolutely to a startled Draco and glared witheringly at the Slytherin, who started to look very coy indeed, guessing what was going on. Harry quickly pulled down his pj bottoms and pulled up his boxer leg, giving Draco a perfect view of half his left bum cheek upon which sat a nasty scratch scabbed over. "Alright, Malfoy," he managed through clenched teeth, "do it now before I change my mind." He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and tried not to bask in memories of such times as Draco's long fingered hand half cupped his bum, allowing the bleeding wrist to press to the flesh. "Well," he squeaked, "This is just bloody ducky!"  
  
~*~  
  
Bill Apparated into the kitchen, yawning widely. He glanced around, hearing only quiet, deciding that the teens were all fast asleep. Then he proceeded to laugh at himself at the very idea. "Don't be a blathering fool," he muttered and went upstairs.  
  
Peeking in all the rooms, he found them empty. Not quite worried just yet, the oldest Weasly went back down the stairs and conjured himself up a nice cup of Chamomile tea. Sipping it gratefully, he opened the back door and stepped outside, kicking aside a nasty little gnome trying to bash his foot in with a makeshift club made out of a rotten beet.  
  
"Ron?" Walking further into the garden, he looked around, still not quite yet worried. They were probably playing a joke on him, knowing them, the little rascals. "Don't tell me I just called my siblings and their friends 'rascals'!" he exclaimed. "Merlin, I'm turning into my dad already." Laughing, he slipped back inside, but not before calling one more time, "I'm not leaving until you guys decide to come out! I don't have time for this, Ronald!"  
  
A copy of the Daily Prophet lay on the table and Bill scooped it up in one hand, still drinking the steaming tea. His eyes scanned over the text without much interest, his ears pricked for any noise other than the quiet slurps of his drink. Where can those brats be, he thought with amusement to himself, remembering when he had been that age.  
  
"Not so long ago," he reminded himself firmly, tugging distractedly on his ponytail. Getting a bit fed up, he glanced at the clock.  
  
Molly/Mum: Traveling  
Arthur/Dad: Traveling  
Bill: Home  
Charlie: Work  
Percy: Traveling  
Fred: Trouble  
George: Trouble  
Ron: Mortal Peril  
Ginny: Mortal Peril  
  
He calmly went back to sipping his tea, humming to himself. "When did I start drinking Chamomile?" he asked himself aloud, staring at the cup. "Or talking to myself for that matter! Ha. Wait, stop!" Laughing, he sat down and conjured up a nice pasty for himself.  
  
Suddenly his back went rigid and his blue eyes almost bugged out of their sockets. He leapt to his feet as if on fire, the cup hitting the floor and breaking into splinters, and threw himself at the clock, pressing his nose to the glass and fogging it up with his heavy breath.  
  
"Shite!"  
  
A/N: Ah, I just love ending my chappies with swear words. *sigh* Anyhooslers! So there you go then. That what you see above this message is the result of 105 degree heat! Oy, vacations scare me so. And I sincerely apologize if I messed up on the Weasley clocky thingy. Forgive me, I searched the books for the right readings - because I'm not quite sure if it's "mortal peril". *sob* I'm a failure!! *brightens up considerably* Next part might not be up so terribly soon due to school startage. Freshman!! AAURGH!! *faints dead away*  
  
~*Villain*~ 


	13. Shite Indeed, Billy Boy, Shite Indeed

Ron's Worst Nightmare  
  
  
  
  
A/N: THANX TO chimerical: Yes, Billy doll was deffinitely freaking out! *grin* And I'll try and have a good first day just for you, doll! Hana-chan: AAGH!! I didn't even think of clothes! JerseyPike: Does Harry have a hand? Rose: This is the reason for my e-mail lateness! Razberry: Ah, fellow freshman! Yay, feel the love! J@nine: I'll! Make! Sure! They! Hurry!!! *wink* Lulu-chan: Ooh!! Interesting! *blush* Eriol: *giggles* Here you are, love! Thief: I hope it won't be that bad... *shudders*  
  
Chapter Thirteen: Shite Indeed, Billy Boy, Shite Indeed  
  
Ron was aware of something cold and slimy pressing against his neck. Without opening his eyes he reached up and plucked it from his skin, tossing it as hard as he could away from him where the object landed with a wet splash. Then he cracked open one eye and hissed with pain as spears of white lightning crackled agonizingly over his nerves. His feet were completely numb, having lost both his socks in the process of getting knocked out, beaten, dragged around, cursed, yelled at, and checked for all sorts of protection charms and disarming them forcefully. Besides the unfortune of losing his poor lost socks, were that his nose and face were bloodied and scratched, hair tousled and matted with sweat and grime, arms blotched white and red between the ropes that bound him much too tightly. And as he focused on a small tin plate next to him, he realized he had just thrown his dinner into what he guessed to be his waste hole.  
  
"Lovely," he murmured, trying to raise himself to his knees, and failing for what he bemusedly counted as the fiftieth time he'd tried since getting dumped in here by two brutal Death Eaters. As to where exactly 'here' was, he didn't have a clue. You-Know-Who's lair? Azkaban? Some VERY kinky sex shop he had sleepwalked into?  
  
There was a loud screeching creak that set his teeth on edge as the door to his cell was opened and a cloaked figure slipped inside, making not one noise as it glided over to him. Half expecting a Dementor, Ron curled up as best he could. But the cold never touched him and the hopeless feeling stayed the same as it had since he had woken the first time covered in blood hours ago.  
  
"Young Weasly. I am sure you are finding everything most comfortable with your stay here?"  
  
Ron rocked back and rolled over on his side, peering up groggily into the half light. The person's face was hidden in shadow, but Ron recognized the sharply pointed chin and perfect blonde goatee.  
  
"Malfoy," he hissed with a vile passion, struggling all the more to sit up. But Lucius merely smiled coldly and planted a Dragon hyde boot firmly on Ron's chest, pinning him to the slimy ground. "Stay still, young one," he purred greasily, his eyes flashing. Ron pulled a face and grimaced as Lucius dug the sharp heel of his boot into the freckled and bruised skin. The boy bit his lip, refusing to make a sound and give this man what he wanted. He refused to let Lucius control him.  
  
But he could not hold back a yelp of pain when Lucius leaned over and slapped him viciously across the face, snapping his head to the side and splitting the already shredded lips. Stinging tears burned trails down his cheeks, streaking the dirt covering his face. Then Ron gasped as Lucius squatted down next to him, twining his long delicate looking fingers with the grip of iron into his wiry red hair and yanking his head back, neck arching painfully and exposing the white throat.  
  
Lucius traced a finger over Ron's bobbing Adam's apple and toyed with the ripped collar of the second hand pajama top. His mouth twisted into a malicious sneer and he jerked the boy's face up and dragged it to a stop only inches from his own fine features of coldness and cruelty. He then took the boy's chin and looked over the freckled face searchingly. "To think he cares so much for you. A simple wizard ranking below dirt...."  
  
Narrowing his liquid brown eyes defiantly, Ron snarled and spat into Lucius' face, tearing himself forcefully from the man's grip and wriggling away as best he could. Lucius yelled and wiped the spittle from his eyes, brandishing his wand and bellowing, "Crucio!"  
  
Ron's screams echoed up through the Malfoy dungeons, chilling the air.  
  
~*~  
  
"Your cloak, Potter," whispered Draco urgently, reaching out to take the silver garment Harry hesitantly held out for him. Hermione kept a sharp watch on the opposite tunnel of the underground passageway. Ginny was quietly hiding the brooms in some brush above ground before climbing back down the ladder to join her friends in the huge underground cavern Draco had shown them as their only way into the house.  
  
After the blood had done its job, the three Gryffindors had stared with open awe at the complicated turrets and spires, endless webs of rooftops and chimneys of the legendary Malfoy Manor. Then Draco proceeded to lead them through an invisible maze of traps to get them here, to what Harry knew had to be something like a sewage pipe, even though Draco insisted it was nothing of the sort.  
  
"It's just an underground passage that got flooded. Lucius," he spat the name bitterly, making Ginny jump, "never got around to fixing it. But it does amount to a nice secret way for his Death Eaters to meet up at our house without getting the villagers all riled up."  
  
So there they went, splashing unhappily through the muck reaching to their thighs, Ginny whimpering on about the chunks of unknown in the water while Hermione tried to think of a nice levitating charm they could all use. In front, Draco and Harry walked side by side, silent. Their wands illuminated both the ceiling and the surface of the sickly green water. Once Harry thought he saw the flashing of eyes in the murky depths.  
  
"Oh," Hermione fretted, finally giving up on the charm, "I forgot to feed Crookshanks!"  
  
Harry grimaced. "I'm sure he'll manage, Hermione."  
  
"Yes," she conceded heavily, "But he so does like his tuna on Thursdays-"  
  
Draco suddenly whipped out his hand across Harry's chest, stopping the boy up short. Harry started to protest as Hermione walked right into him, but as he looked out before them, he saw a gaping cavity spanning the whole width of the tunnel and blocking their way. He stared down with amazement, noticing that the water had stopped as if against a wall of glass until it started again on the far end of the pit just the same way.  
  
"I had almost forgotten about this," said Draco. He glanced at Hermione, who had inched forward to stand next to him, her eyes wide. Ginny refused to come a step closer, not trusting the slippery state of the rock beneath the water on such an edge. Harry knelt down and put his hand into the water, spearing it through the wall of water and watching with some amusement how his hand popped out on the other side into air. Draco rolled his eyes and looked around as if for an idea. But it was Hermione who spoke.  
  
"I wish we hadn't of left the brooms behind. But it was probably for the best in the long run." Her brow furrowed. "I just know there's a simple charm! I know there's Wingardium Leviosa, but I'm hesitant about using it here. Aren't there any alarms set up for detecting magic use?"  
  
"Down here? I doubt it. My father is the only one allowed to set them up and he wouldn't set foot down here if someone offered him all of England. So I think it'll be safe until we reach the mote. When we get there we'll have to swim up to the surface. Past Nettles as we go."  
  
Hermione looked baffled, "Nettles under water?"  
  
"No, not the plant. The sea serpent, Nettles." Draco gave her a small, empty smile. "I raised him from the size of a tadpole and when he got big enough, Lucius put him in the mote to guard. I'm pretty sure he'll let me through, but it might help if we had something to give him. That's the one loophole of having an especially friendly sea serpent guarding your mote, they tend to be suseptible to bribery with any type of food."  
  
Ginny tapped her lips, thinking, then reached inside the pocket of her bathrobe and lifted out several lumps of cookie that Hermione had made for dessert after dinner that night. She had stuffed them in her pocket while they ate, not daring to eat any more after her first one. Afterwards she must've just forgotten to take them back out. The brunette fumed, "You said they were good!"  
  
The redhead shrugged, "You seemed so excited to make them for us. I just couldn't let it down soft enough that they taste like tar."  
  
Hermione started to growl something lethal, but Harry stopped her. "Will this be enough, Malfoy?"  
  
Draco held out his cupped hands and Ginny emptied the cookies into them. He nodded, storing them in his own pocket, but not before handing one to each of them in turn. "Just throw these into the water to him. We'll only be able to pass one at a time. Now, the spell-"  
  
Hermione nodded stiffly, being the best at charms, and brandished her wand, flicking it appropriately, "Wingardium Leviosa!"  
  
Harry felt himself become weightless. At first he just spun upside-down, but then managed to start dog paddling through the air over the gaping abyss. Ginny, Draco, and finally Hermione herself followed. As they alighted on the other side, Hermione (while trying desperately to keep her nighty from rising, shouted, "Finite incantatum!" And Ginny, who had not quite touched the ground yet, squealed and fell onto her backside. Harry helped her up, trying not to laugh as the soon to be sixth year glared daggers at an innocently whistling Hermione.  
  
"We best get going," Draco called back to them, already about a hundred yards ahead and still walking. The others ran to catch up, all lighting their wands and filling the long cavern with a dim, yellow light.  
  
~*~  
  
Chest rising and falling rapidly, eyelids fluttering with the aftermath of such harrowing torture, Ron flinched when Lucius spoke after the few minutes he had enjoyed watching the boy writhe in pain. "I wouldn't try and be so brave again, boy. Or you may be more foolish than I had always suspected." There was a slight scuffing as he made his way down to Ron's side, reaching out to flick a piece of scum off of the pale cheek. Then Lucius sat back on his heels and just watched with an expressionless face as Ron started to calm down and gather his wits about him.  
  
When finally the boy had managed to pull himself up into a sitting position, Lucius had conjured up a goblet and a wet cloth. Ron regarded him warily, still not quite able to focus completely with both of his fading brown eyes. He couldn't stop a frightened gasp as he felt a hand slide beneath his chin and tip his face up, nor a small moan as the wet cloth was touched gently to a cut on his forehead.  
  
Lucius Malfoy tilted his head to the side, a smile quirking the tips of his mouth when Ron aloud his wild eyes to slip shut, enjoying the feel of the cloth cleaning away at his cuts and the dirt on his face. But when those strangely gentle hands to went to remove his shirt, the boy's eyes flew open and he fell back, pushing away. The man arched an eyebrow. "I'm not going to strip you, boy. Just get that disgusting piece of cloth off you. We can't have you getting all infected now, can we?" Slowly he pulled Ron back to him, this time managing to slip the soiled shirt up over the scared face, revealing shockingly white skin beneath, dotted more with the trademark freckles of his bloodline.  
  
This time when the cloth (now magically warmed and cleaned again) touched his skin, Ron shivered with pleasure and allowed Lucius to lean him back into his chest, drawing the cloth over the grimy flesh slowly and wiping it somewhat cleaner than before. Though when he drew it below the boy's naval, Ron stiffened considerably. But that melted away with another moan from the warmth of the cloth.  
  
From the goblet of water, Ron drank almost greedily, draining it in seconds. It was after his second goblet that Lucius finally stood up, leaving the magically refilling goblet in the cell, and cast the boy one last cold smile.  
  
Ron sat shivering in the middle of the cell, pulling the button up top of his pajamas tightly around his stiff fingers. He didn't look at the man gazing at him so piercingly. He didn't want to admit - to realize what had just happened. It could not have just been that he was in Lucius Malfoy's arms being bathed by the evil tyrant he had grown up hating with a deep passion.  
  
"Go away," he whispered. Lucius did not change expression, just lightly tapped a cheery rythm on the bars down the row of cells on his way out.  
  
~*~  
  
"Alright, be careful now. Make sure you have a good grip on these bars, they're old and slimy." Draco looked up fitfully as Hermione started ascending up the old metal ladder which led to the bright green hole at the bottom of the mote and above their heads. Hermione cast them a reassuring smile and beside Draco, Harry thought it not the time to point out how much the Slytherin looked like a plucky mother sending her only daughter off to kindergarten for the first day.  
  
When Hermione reached the top of the ladder and the port hole, she gasped and called down, "The water's just hanging over it!" Then they all saw a shadow pass over the hole and Hermione nearly fell with a cry of surprise.  
  
"Don't worry," Draco yelled up to her, "It's only Nettles! Push the cookie through and wait. When you here him start to purr-"  
  
"Purr!?"  
  
"Yes, when he starts to purr, you know it's good to go through." Draco started wringing his wrists as Hermione did as she was told, pushing her hand through the suspended wall of water into the full murk of the mote. She drew it back sharply and then a low, melodious rumbling filled the cavern, echoing from through the hole in the mote. Without another second to wait, Hermione dove through with a slight splash, flailing upwards. Next Ginny started up the ladder, faster than Hermione and waited until Draco gave her the go ahead. When she was through, Harry began to climb. As he reached the window like pane of water he stared out in amazement. It was like looking through the window of a submarine out into the ocean deep. Except that the window was water. He nearly fell as he saw a huge head like that of a dinosaur pass the window, looking at him with one huge yellow eye. He heard Draco call from below to hurry and thrust his cookie through into the water, letting it float free. With a huge snap, Nettles had devoured the cookie and began purring like a gigantic scaly cat with flippers. Harry shot through and made his way, fighting, to the surface.  
  
After Draco had climbed onto the shore to join the three soaking Gryffindors, all looking quite out of breath, he looked down into the water to see Nettles waiting expectantly by the mote bed for any more cookies. Grabbing the last remaining crumbs from his pocket, he tossed them into the water and whistled. Nettle heard him and the giant jaws closed around the crumbs, swallowing them down into the void of his stomach which Harry guessed could've held a car.  
  
"Alright, the easy part's done. Let's get dried up and it'll be best if we just climb up the walls." He waved his wand, mumbling something, and four ropes appeared out of nowhere. With another flick of the wand, the ends of the ropes had sped up the side of the nearest tower, hitching to the highest window. Ginny performed quick drying spells and each of them grabbed their own rope. They all looked expectantly at Draco and the Slytherin took a deep breath and nodded.  
  
Then they began to climb.  
  
A/N: Next chappie we will get back to Bill. Dunno how long this story will continue to go on. Few more chapters perhaps, at least. ^_^ Au revoir, lovies!  
  
~*Villain*~ 


	14. Moon Dog

Ron's Worst Nighmare  
  
  
  
  
A/N: THANX TO j@nine: *taken aback* I'd feel bad for the guy if he ever gets in your way! ^_^ chimerical: *giggles* I'll be sure and have more fluffiness for you, love! Lulu-Chan: Nah, I'm not the killing type. @_@ Thief: Yes, poor Ronnikins!!  
  
Chapter Fourteen: Moon Dog   
  
Bill had paced until his knees were weak. He couldn't tell his mother of his father what had happened. No, that would be stupid. Very stupid. They didn't need it right then anyway, at all. So the man did the next best thing: He got his brother, Charlie.  
  
Charlie Weasly was in Ireland at the time working with some wizards when Bill Apparated into the roughly made compound. The redhead didn't even spare the beautiful green eyed dragons a glance as he hurried to find his brother. A couple of witches or wizards waved to him or called out directions. Bill gave them all a nod and hunched down in his cloak. Worry gnawed at his mind, a thousand grim possibilities flitted across his conscious. It was a good thing Charlie was always the level headed one. That was what made him such an exceptional Seeker back when he flew on broomsticks, not the backs of dragons.  
  
"Bill!" A muffled voice made him pull up short and he whirled around to come face to face with his brother and an angry dragonling. He squawked and stumbled backwards as a thin jet of steam issued from the dragon's mouth. Charlie grimaced and motioned over another witch, keeping tight hold on the baby with one arm. "Mina, could you-"  
  
She took the baby gingerly from his arms and arched an eyebrow at Bill, lying sprawled on the ground. "Wimp." Then she stalked off.  
  
Charlie helped his brother up and smiled sheepishly, dusting the taller man off with even dirtier hands. Bill finally grabbed his brother's hands and held them still. "Charlie, the kids are gone."  
  
It took about two minutes for the information to sink in before Charlie blinked and said softly, "What do you mean?"  
  
"No trace. Gone. And the clock said that Ginny and Ron were in mortal danger. But we can't tell mum or dad-"  
  
"Are you mad? Of course not! How long have they been gone?"  
  
"I - I'm not really sure. Some hours."  
  
"Alright. Let me tell Tom I'm leaving...." The red haired dragon keeper disappeared into a pillar of steam and Bill started off to the entrance of the camp. When he got there, Charlie was already there, waiting impatiently for him, not even bothering to remove the dragon wear he had dawned more then two days ago. Bill wrinkled his nose, "You reek, bro."  
  
"It's the price I must pay for being the best looking brother."  
  
Then they Disapparated-  
  
-And Apparated in the middle of a milling crowd of violent reporters and photographers harassing the poor flustered Minister of Magic, Cornilius Fudge. Bill winked at his brother and whispered an incantation. Under the cover of many pressed bodies of reporters, no one saw Bill shooting his curse into the air until it was too late and the room was filled with fluffy pink stuffed elephants. The security, still quite busy keeping back the crowding paparazzi, didn't notice the two young red haired men slip into an EMPLOYEES ONLY marked door.  
  
Unfortunately, Bill and Charlie snuck through, thoroughly satisfied with themselves, they ran straight into the worst step up from a schizophrenic security guard with a rash and no sleep for ten straight days.....  
  
Their brother, Percy.  
  
"What are you doing here!?" he squeaked, dumping the tower of papers he held into the unsteady arms of a secretary. She tottered, and with a small cry, toppled right over. Percy ignored her and stalked up to his two older brother, ears deep red, cheeks flushed. "I was in the middle of a *very* important assignment," he hissed.  
  
"Carrying around huge stacks of paper is considered a '*very* important assignment', Perc?"  
  
"You don't know!" His high voice had become immensely shrill and if Bill wasn't under such stress, he would've laughed and thumped his fragile brother good-naturedly on the back. Instead he sighed heavily and said, "Perc, we need to find Sirius and Iris right away. Can you tell us where they are?"  
  
Percy's expression changed from embarrassed annoyance to a well guarded glare. "Why?" he questioned suspiciously. Bill started to answer, but Charlie beat him to the chase.  
  
"Buckbeak's taken rather ill lately and I've gotten some dried Dragon's blood for a potion. It'll help with his sickness. Sirius is really distraught, Perc."  
  
"He doesn't look it to me," said Percy stiffly. "Why don't I just take it to him?"  
  
"Very delicate stuff," said Charlie importantly, Bill nodding beside him.   
  
Percy narrowed his eyes and started to say something, but both of his brothers looked at him earnestly and he informed them grudgingly, "I think they're on their break now, so they might be in their office. But-"  
  
"Thanks, Perc," the two oldest Weasleys chorused, springing down the hall on their long legs towards the way Percy had indicated.  
  
Percy harumphed grumpily and stormed off, forgetting his '*very* important assignment' papers. Two minutes later he returned, looking livid with himself and magically picked them up to float behind him down the hall. The woman who had toppled over - into the garbage can no doubt - uncrossed her eyes dizzily and rolled over, the can falling sideways over her.  
  
"Ow...."  
  
~*~  
  
"Sirius! Calm down for bloody sakes," hissed Iris hotly, closing the door to their mutual office behind her and pressing up against it, glaring at her partner, chest heaving with emotion. Sirius wouldn't meet her gaze, too busy raging about the room, cursing everything about the minister of magic, Cornilius Fudge.  
  
"How am I supposed to be calm!? That old bastard still doesn't recognize the indications of Voldemort's presence here in the wizarding world! Even three years later, he doesn't quite get it through his thick skull." Sirius emphasized by jabbing his pointer finger into his temple. Iris sighed. She understood where Sirius was coming from. For the past four years, starting from the third Task of the TriWizard Tournament, Fudge had done his best to ignore the growing fact that Voldemort had returned. Even small wars did not change his mind that the Death Eaters may still be bluffing. Only because Voldemort failed to make any true public appearances (any that *did* see him never lived to tell of it).  
  
Sirius sat wearily in the chair at the dark oak desk, conjuring up a steaming cup of tea. Iris perched on the corner of his desk, her head bowed in thought, a few loose strands of hair falling from her painfully tight bun at the back of her head.  
  
"Why don't you ever wear your hair down anymore?" asked Sirius sincerely.   
  
Iris smiled and shook her head. "Sirius, this is no time for-" But she was cut off by strong fingers undoing the clasp of her hair and letting the glistening locks of chestnut brown cascade down her back. She laughed as Sirius rounded the corner of the desk and took one of her hands, bowing. "If the lady would be so kind as to dance we with me....."  
  
She sighed, setting down her wand and nodding. "You don't have to ask, you know."  
  
"You always tell me that I'm never a gentleman, so I thought I'd go an extra mile for you today."  
  
Iris smiled into his shoulder as they swayed to music that only they could hear. The two Aurors danced a slow waltz, Sirius stroking the thick brown of her hair and Iris breathing in the scent of her three year work partner. She drew away slightly and looked deep into his ebony eyes.  
  
"You're beautiful, Iris Andua," he said regally, giving her a lopsided grin that melted her insides. She blushed and let him pull her closer, rising up on her tiptoes, his sweet breath brushing her cheeks as he leaned in to her. Their lips just brushed when the door to their office burst open and Bill and Charlie Weasly stumbled in, followed by several flustered and shouting secretaries.  
  
They leapt away from each other like two teens caught snogging and Iris messed with piles of paper, trying to look busy. But she looked up when she heard a note of iron in Sirius' voice when he said the single word that sent a shock of worry through her body.  
  
"Harry....."  
  
~*~  
  
"Hello Severus."  
  
"Lupin."  
  
"Please, Severus, sit down."  
  
"Thank you, *Remus*," Snape replied sarcastically. He sat down stiffly, his eyes never leaving Lupin's weary, but pleasant face. The two men sat in a muggle restaurant in London, both dressed in suits: Snape was in a midnight black blazer and matching slacks with a black dress shirt and black satin tie. His ebony hair was slicked back into a tight ponytail and a few curly strands hung down in his pale face, brushing the waxen cheeks. Remus was in threadbare tweed, looking years older than in his mere 30s. Snape wrinkled his nose and Lupin hid a smile. In the middle of their table sat a lavish bouquet arrangement of dried roses resting in the very odorous seed called Rose Hip.  
  
"May I take your orders now, misouer?" The young waiter walked with an elongated stride and spoke in a clipped French accent that Lupin guessed as easily fake. He smiled politely up at the man and flipped idly through the menu he'd reviewed before his dinner partner arrived.  
  
"If I could have Baton le Sesquas, please."  
  
"Very good misouer. And you, misouer?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
The waiter made a small face. "Very well, misouer. And to drink?"  
  
"Water please," said Lupin softly, watching Snape with amusement, "Just water."  
  
"Liquoer," piped up Snape without a moment's hesitation.  
  
The waiter left after giving them a curt bow. Lupin followed the young man with his eyes until the waiter disappeared through the double doors of the kitchen. Then he turned back to a very disgruntled Potions master, who glared at him testily, his fingers tapping the table with restless impatience. Lupin smiled mildly and gently reminded Severus that they were in no rush to be anywhere. To this, Snape sat back, his lids half covering the storming black orbs of his eyes. Long fingers pressed in a rigid steeple on the table. Remus cleared his throat.  
  
"How are you, Severus?"  
  
"I shall decide that after you tell me the exact purpose of this rather unexpected meeting."  
  
"The sunset was beautiful yesterday night. The sky was red streaked and brilliant." The corners of the weary blue eyes crinkled in a smile. "What is that old saying? 'Red sky at night, sailor's delight - red sky in the morning, sailors take a warning'. Something like that."  
  
Snape's lip curled.  
  
"I talked to Dumbledore, Severus."  
  
"Hmmm."  
  
"He's letting me back."  
  
A slender, black eyebrow piqued. "Yes."  
  
"You've heard?"  
  
Snape's gaze bore into the delicate looking man across from him like daggers grinding into flesh. "He told me, recently."  
  
Remus suddenly looked uncomfortable. He could only guess why Dumbledore would feel the need to tell Severus he was coming back before all the other teachers. Merlin knew how much the man wanted the Dark Arts position. "Ah, I see."  
  
"You still have not answered my first question, Lupin.'  
  
"Er - Ah, look, our drinks have arrived!"  
  
Snape's lips pursed at his fellow staff member's exaggerated, shifty, and avoiding excitement over the arrival of the drinks. He decided to leave the real reason of their meeting for later. He knew Lupin would not tell unless he wanted to. It was a trait Severus envied, but would not reveal. If someone did not know what was going on, he felt the need to inform them so that they would not play the fool in the dark.  
  
The dark amber liquid in his glass glowed with the dim, rose tinted light of the room. Snape picked it up and swirled it around in the tiny glass, his eyes trained on his counterpart piercingly. The Werewolf ignored him pleasantly, busying himself with his cloth napkin and deciding whether to lay in it his lap, or perhaps set it back on he table, or even wear it as a bib. Severus rolled his eyes and snatched the napkin away from the other man, annoyed. Lupin grinned at him sheepishly and Snape snapped, "For Baton le Sesquas, you keep it down."  
  
"I'm not quite used to this sort of atmosphere, Severus. Forgive my impertinence." There was a hint of amusement in the light tone of his voice, and a lively spark in the pale blue eyes. Severus looked away, taking his own napkin and fiddling with it as Lupin surveyed him calmly.  
  
"Do you make it a habit of your's to stare at people?"  
  
"I'm sorry Severus. I'm just thinking."  
  
"I find that most surprising."  
  
"Please, Severus...."  
  
"Please what!" snapped Snape irritably, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. At this movement, Lupin chuckled and leaned forward over the table, resting his chin on his fists.  
  
"You used to do that when you were young, Severus."  
  
"Younger."  
  
"Quite."  
  
A silence fell over the both of them. Snape finally broke it waspishly.  
  
"You will tell me why I am here now, Lupin, or I shall leave."  
  
"I don't know why youre here, Severus. Actually, Im surprised you even came."  
  
Snape shrugged, his eyes like twin pools of utter darkness. "You sounded distressed."  
  
"I didn't know you cared," said Lupin quietly, smiling as Snape glared.  
  
"Don't be daft, Lupin. If you care to remember, I have the unpleasant job of being your keeper."  
  
"Come now Severus, that's a bit harsh."  
  
"I save your life and the lives of others every full moon. Otherwise, you might run wild and tear at any living flesh you can get to."  
  
Lupin flinched, but recovered quickly, his face relaxing. "Did I ever say how sorry I was, Severus? That Sirius did that to you?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"You were badly shaken. I visited you in the hospital wing."  
  
"All hail Saint Lupin."  
  
"Seriously, Severus."  
  
"Why should that have any relevance now, Lupin?"  
  
"I don't want to come back to Hogwarts with you and I in bad airs."  
  
'There is nothing *you* can do."  
  
"Why not give me a chance?" Lupin whispered passionately, reaching out to take Snape's white hand.  
  
But the sallo man snatched it away, his eyes flashing. 'Why not keep our distances until the blasted full moon rises and I must stand your presence for the few minutes I take with you."  
  
The Dark Arts Professor looked thoughtful. "I always wondered, Severus, why is it that you stay with me?"  
  
"To make sure you down the potion."  
  
"Thank you, Severus. It's very kind of you."  
  
"It's not for you, Werewolf," spat Snape venomously.  
  
But Lupin caught the flash of guilt in the black gaze. Narrowing his eyes, he pressed, "You don't hate me, Severus. You never hated any of us."  
  
"How do you know what I feel?"  
  
"I know *you*, Severus."  
  
"What are you getting at, Lupin?"  
  
Looking around to see if anyone was listening in, Lupin cleared his throat and said rather humbly, "I want a truce, Severus. You have no idea how guilty I feel over that incident."  
  
"It wasn't all your fault," said Snape gruffly.  
  
"I could've killed you."  
  
"Rant to Black."  
  
"You've kept your grudge, Severus. I want no more bad blood between yourself and the Marauders."  
  
"What good will it do now? I shall be content with the way things have always been. You stay clear of my way, I see you a couple of minutes out of every month."  
  
"Minutes you spend making sure every single drop of potion makes it safely down my throat. To stay and make sure I am all right as I change."  
  
"For the sake of innocent people who do not know of you!" insisted Snape a little shrilly, causing several heads to turn their way. Lupin allowed a ghost of a grin to creep across his face. He leaned back in his seat and Snape immediately narrowed his eyes with suspicion.  
  
"What do you plan to accomplish by your assumptions, Remus?"  
  
Remus ignored the use of his first name and shrugged innocently, "It's natural for a Werewolf to wonder. I don't have much use of anything except for thought while I'm changed. And I wanted to thank you for making that potion when we both know that you could do one thing wrong on *accident*, and I would be gone forever out of your hair."  
  
"Dumbledore would-"  
  
"Not be able to do a thing, Severus. He trusts you with his life and the lives of others. He trusts you with mine. As do I." Lupin's voice had dropped several pitches and Snape had unconsciously leaned forward to hear the slighter man. He caught himself and sat up straight stiffly, glaring.  
  
He opened his mouth to speak, but there was a sudden bang, and screams coming from the kitchen. Cooks and helpers stumbled out of the room in white aprons as smoke billowed from between the swinging double doors. Snape saw their waiter run out, his long legs carrying him impossibly fast. Lupin was on his feet, wand held his his hand, hidden by his sleeve. Snape followed suit slower, taking his own wand, not bothering to hide it.  
  
Out of the swinging doors stepped a woman with unruly chestnut hair sticking out every which way from a hurriedly dressed bun at the nape of her neck. Streaks of black soot smudged her cheeks and dotted her nose. Her bright brown eyes scanned the room until they came to rest on the two wizards. Remus recognized her as she started towards them.  
  
"Iris! What's the matter?"  
  
She only shook her head, grabbing Remus and motioning for Snape to follow. They trotted behind her into the kitchen, Remus apologizing to everyone they passed, not that they listened. As they approached a huge fire pit in back for the smoked turkeys and fancy dishes, Iris pulled a small sack out of her pocket and extracted a clump of powder, which she tossed into the fire.  
  
"Ministry of Magic!" she yelled, jumping into the flames. Remus shot Snape a confused look. Snape only pursed his lps and followed the woman in.   
  
~*~  
  
"What makes you think that Lucius Malfoy has them?" asked Remus calmly, trying to soothe his best friend, rubbing wide circles into Sirius' hunched back. Iris was pacing, sputtering out a choppy explanation that no one could really follow. She had still not removed the soot from her cheeks and Remus thought it best not to point out her appearance at the moment.  
  
"It's what he would do. It is my belief he stole the young Weasly. A perfect trap for Potter to fall into," said Snape, hanging back in the shadows.  
  
"And Draco," added Bill quietly, chewing on the end of his ponytail. The others looked at him solemnly. Just then, the door to the two Aurors' office open and an older witch strode in, not even sparing the other occupants a glance, just making a straight bee-line for Iris.  
  
"Iris, I've a report from the village surrounding Knockturn Alley that they've seen movement up around where the Manor supposedly lies."  
  
"Thank you, Meredith." Iris turned back to her friends and glanced at Snape. "He's right. It must be Lucius behind all of this."  
  
"Than we need to get the Hell over there!" cried Sirius near hysterically, his eyes wild with worry.  
  
"That would be as good as signing the students' death warrants," Snape hissed. Sirius shot him a scathing glare, but held back a retort as Remus sent a him a warning look. Snape continued, a sneer working its way onto his face as he went, "Malfoy Manor is the most highly protected building besides Gringotts. It would take months to crack into it if the owner did not want company. Obviously Lucius does not. If he catches whiff of anything, and *does* posses Draco and Potter, then he will use them to his will as hostages."  
  
"Then what do we do?" Sirius ground out through tightly clenched teeth. Remus layed a soothing hand on his friend's shoulder.  
  
Snape's eyes glittered and he smiled greasily, causing Sirius to scowl in such a way that Remus griped his shoulder tighter. But then the Dark Arts Professor let his hand fall away in shock as Snape said flippantly, "Dark Magic allows Dark Magic. There is one option which we can take: We send the Werewolf in."  
  
Lupin's already pale complexion turned waxy white and Snape grinned widely, biting back the temptation to rub his hands together evilly.  
  
"With his senses, expertise, and dark nature, he'll be able to pass the boundaries easily. Granted, he will not be able to get all the way into the Manor, but he can let *us* inside. And I happen to have a vile of Malfoy's blood so that we may see," he said, "It is the only way, and the moon rises tonight."  
  
A/N: Ghee, I know the time seems a bit awry, but..... work with me here people. I'm trying to wrap this impossibly long story up gracefully. *grunts* Not to mention how dang long I took! I apologize by the way. Newbie to high school. Hee. Stress. But ya know, it's so incredibly boring!! Yeah, the guys are hot and I have found a whole new light to goatees, but there is no time to SOCIALIZE!! And that's what I live for! Yup, Villain the social butterfly. (no joke, that's my name at HS! ^_^) Au revior!  
  
~*Villain*~ 


	15. Bait

Ron's Worst Nightmare  
  
  
  
  
A/N: THANX TO chimerical: Yeah, the last chappie didn't do well with me either. Plunk. Demeter: *giggles* Perhaps there IS more to Sevvie/Remmy than meets the eye!  
  
Chapter Fifteen: Bait  
  
"Lucius, your son is inside the Manor."  
  
"I am very aware of that fact, my lord."  
  
"We shall find him now then."  
  
Lucius' lips thinned. "My son knows the passages as well as I, my lord. He will evade any attempts at his capture easily."  
  
Voldemort merely gave his servant a thin-lipped smile. "I have thought of that fact already, Lucius. Bring me the boy."  
  
"As you wish."  
  
Ron stumbled into the room, wild eyed. He shrieked upon seeing the Dark Lord and struggled vainly in Lucius' iron grasp. Voldemort chuckled softly and motioned him forward. When Ron was held helplessly wriggling right in front of him within touching distance, Voldemort drew a jagged, bone white finger down the side of his face and told him airily, "You, my lad, are very lucky that you may be of such use to me." Ron blanched, his face turning green with fright. "What I am about to do to you is let you-" Ron held his breath "-free." Something like a sliver of hope in the brown orbs. "Inside this mansion. But you see, there is a catch. Lucius, I want everyone on alert, for when your son finds this boy here, I will be notified immediately of his presence. You're to be quite a trap," he finished smoothly, speaking pointedly to Ron. The boy felt his knees go weak and would have collapsed had it not been for the hold Lucius had on him. He was to be bait. And when Draco and Harry found him, the Dark Lord would know it - and their location.  
  
"And just to make sure you don't go and yell to your little friends, and warn them before they see you, I'll make a bit of an alteration." Resting his fingers against Ron bobbing Adam's apple, Voldemort hissed, "Silencius."   
  
Ron could not speak. It felt as if his throat had been stuffed with bitter cotton and even as he tried - he failed to make any sound. Silent tears streamed down his face and Voldemort caught one tiny bead on the tip of a sharp clawed finger, holding it up to shine like a precious diamond in the flickering candle light. "Let him run then, Lucius. Let our lad go and find them for us."  
  
The tall blonde man nodded stiffly and started marching Ron towards the opposite wall of flat gray stone. Fleetingly wondering if they were going to bash his head in, Ron threw up his hands just as he was shoved into the wall-  
  
-stumbling straight threw the solid stone as if it were a blanket of mist and into a dimly lit corridor. He whirled around and saw nothing but a plain wall of immobile stone. Striking it over and over with his bruised fists, he elicited nothing but more tears. But he shouldn't stay put like this! He had no time to fret about himself. It was time to run and hope against hope that he would not find his fiends who had come to rescue him before he managed to warn them somehow.  
  
~*~   
  
"Where to now, your royal shortness," snapped Harry wearily, glaring at the blonde with blazing green eyes as he leaned heavily on a suit of armor, chest heaving. From the moment their feet had touched the marble floor, the teens had been running. Skirting guards and servants alike as they went. Now Ginny and Hermione, both pale and shaking, were holding each other up for support and watching Draco grimly. The blonde ignored Harry's comment and peeked around the corner. Harry jealously studied Draco's frame, taught and rigid with suppressed agitation. The boy was alert and barely breathing hard at all. Narrowing his eyes, Harry quieted his breath and pushed himself away from the wall, swaying slightly on his quaking legs.  
  
Draco held up a hand to stop Harry from saying anything more and in the silence that followed, they heard the faint slapping of bare feet on stone.  
  
~*~  
  
"Are you sure you'll be alright, Remus?" asked Sirius, casting a distrustful glance at Snape, who held the smoking goblet of Wolfs Bane potion in a stiff white hand. Lupin took Sirius' chin and gently directed his friend's anxious gaze back to his own calm and resigned one. In answer to the his friend's question, the Werewolf only took a deep breath and pulled a surprised Sirius into a tight embrace before releasing him and walking up to a scowling potions master. He finished off the potion in one swig and and told the two raven haired men to leave while the Change came over him.  
  
Sirius started to protest, stepping forward, but Remus cut him off with a wave of his hand, now beginning to quiver. Snape slipped past Sirius and out the door, gliding. Before he walked away, he assured Sirius, "You wouldn't want to see it, Black."  
  
"Remus, please! Look at you," a soft note entered his tone as he took Lupin's hand and stroked the palm with his thumb, outlining the stark blue veins, "Your shaking all over. Let me stay with you. Moony, I've seen it before."  
  
Their eyes locked in a fierce battle of wills, Remus still being concerned of his friend's welfare around him in wolf form. Deepest black beat over blue and the DADA professor sighed heavily and allowed Sirius to push him back into a chair. Just as Sirius reached over and brushed his face, Lupin went rigid and a low moan issued from between his lips. On instinct, Sirius transformed into Padfoot and nudged Lupin's shoulder comfortingly as the man fell from his chair, writhing on the floor in painful spasms.  
  
From the doorway, Snape watched the two animals, his lip curled. The sight of Lupin writhing on the floor amid his change brought back painful memories for the man. He shut his eyes tightly, lost in the past momentarily as Remus screamed.....  
  
  
..... In Potter's third year, during the first change Lupin had at Hogwarts teaching, Snape had stayed with him on the full moon. The sight of the feeble young man huddled in an oversized armchair, shivering from cold that only he could feel, somewhat melted the ice around the potion master's heart. He had even gripped Lupin's hand as the first stage of the change hit. When the man was on the ground, he had him in his lap, rocking the violently thrashing figure back and forth and murmuring comforts into his pain deafened ear.  
  
Lupin had ground his teeth together, thrown back his head so that his beautiful neck arched in the moonlight and blue eyes burned with a ferociousness that no one could think the mellow man capable of. Snape had stroked his brow and once even kissed the clammy forehead. Panic had clenched his chest as he leaned back from kissing the other man, for Lupin's eyes were open and calm for a few seconds in lingo between the bursts of switching. He reached up and held Severus' face in a gentle hand soaked with sweat. He had guided the sharp face down so that their breath twined together. He had captured the severe lips in a soft kiss.  
  
Snape had kissed back gently, helped by the pressure of Lupin's thin hand on the back of his head. Then, as he parted his lips, Lupin had jerked wildly beneath him and the beautiful blue of his eyes were drowned in blood shot white. The soft mouth was twisted and formed into a snarl of rage. Snape fell back, watching in horror as the fair man before him changed slowly, painfully, horribly into the monster he was.  
  
Afterwards Snape left the lone wolf to himself as the creature gazed at him with mournful eyes, now dull and empty. The door shut behind him and the wolf let out a terrible wail of loneliness. He stole quickly through the passageway, robes billowing behind him and the sound of a violent storm going on above his head helping somewhat drowning out the howling of the Werewolf.....   
  
  
..... Snape shut the door behind him and heard nothing but silence. Imagining the two giant animals in the room, standing close together, a sneer whispered over his lips and died out. Black was there for Lupin when Severus wasn't and that was how it would always be. Starting down the hall, hunched into his bulky cloak, he decided he would allow Lupin to have a time to rest and recuperate. Then they would head for Malfoy Manor.  
  
~*~  
  
Ron stumbled past the same tapestry for the fifth time and questioned his very sanity as he stared at the elegant piece of cloth hanging from the high vaulted ceiling. He silently sobbed in frustration, the pains from his earlier torture coming back to haunt him. Then came the memory of soft fingers dancing pleasurable warmth over his gritty skin, firm strokes of the cloth wiping away his hurts. Pale eyes boring into him as he found himself at Lucius Malfoy's mercy.  
  
Shaking his head fiercely to rid himself of the thought, Ron gritted his teeth and staggered onward, his vision blurred by stinging tears and throat rasping with the silence of his breath. He had twisted his leg skidding around a corner, careening into a sharp elbowed suit of armor, one of many that littered the castle halls. Chest heaving with exhaustion, the redhead slid down the wall and pulled his knees up to his chin, laying his head down on them and closing his eyes. He needed to think. How could he warn Draco and the others not to approach him?  
  
Suddenly, he heard whispered down the length of the hall. People approaching. Craning his neck, ears piqued, he heard distinctly the sound of Harry's soft, urgent words and Draco's lilting voice. Oh Merlin, Hermione and Ginny, too!? Ron scrambled to his feet and raced away from them, coming to a door and pushing through into an empty study, filled with books of all types. Across the quiet gloom of the room sat a beautiful stained glass window of a dragon rearing up and blowing a huge burst of black flames from its mouth. He lunged for it and attacked the latch on the side in a blind panic for his friends safety, managing to swing open the glass panel.  
  
He pulled himself onto the sill, the wind stinging his eyes and tearing at his clothes and hair. As he looked down the stories and stories to the ground, a terrible fear clenched within him. But when the voices grew closer, and he could hear them above the wind, he knew that his life would not matter when it saved his friends, who could amount to great things in the Wizarding world. He closed his eyes and spread his arms wide, leaning forward..... he was falling...... his feet just leaving the stone....... not quite airborne...... almost free.....  
  
~*~  
  
"Are you ready?"  
  
The wolf did nothing but lean against his leg. Sirius scratched it behind the ears and followed Snape and the two Weasly brothers out the door. Iris came behind him, pulling her hair back into the tight bun she always wore. Their mouths, save Lupin - who's steaming red tongue was lolling out - were set into grim lines. Snape was sobered greatly by witnessing the change of Lupin and when they reached their broom sticks (not being able to Apparate to Malfoy Manor, lesser so with a Werwolf along) he reminded them of the blood, and decided to apply it now.  
  
Each one of them in turn let Severus take their faces in his cold fingers and steady them while he dripped the blood into their eyes as a sheen. Somehow, the blood stayed in their eyes and they mounted their brooms, Snape leading the way and Sirius last, carrying Moony in a huge gunny sack hanging from his broom.  
  
Iris had never been fond of flying, and would've much preferred Apparating. She clutched the handle with whitened knuckles and clenched her jaw, flying a little ahead of Sirius between Bill and Charlie. The young men flew easily and Charlie did a flew corkscrews to loosen himself up as Bill relaxed into the broom. Up ahead, Snape road his broom stiffly, but expertly, avoiding the icy clouds dotting the sky and weaving in and out of tall treetops. Sirius relied on Iris to shout at him if he were to crash, for most of his attention was focused on a squirming Moony, who was becoming restless confined in the sack.  
  
When they reached the Manor, tinted in red, Snape began flying low until they reached the cobblestone road leading past the great house. He leaned his broom up against one of the great stone Dragons standing regally on either side of a spiny gate. Beyond they saw a graveyard, ghostly and magical, shining in mist, and beyond that - Malfoy Manor in all its morbid glory. Sirius shuddered and let Moony free from the sack, holding tightly onto the shaggy scruff of his friend's neck as Snape inspected the gate.  
  
"He should be able to fit through," he stated, careful not to touch the dragons or the gate itself. He motioned sharply for Sirius to come forward with Moony. The Werewolf sniffed experimentally at the gate. His eyes focused on the Manor and he back away, whimpering. Sirius whispered into his long pointed ear, stroking his sides. The wolf looked at them all with greatly intelligent eyes, only dulled by the potion controlling his rage. Then, with a quick, reasurring dart of his tongue across Snape's hand, he slipped through bars and padded through the murky tombstones on silent paws. The others watched him with baited breath until his slender form disappeared into a cloud of mist.  
  
"Now all we do is wait," said Snape wearily, running a hand through his hair. But no one heard him. The two redheads were standing together closely, heads bent in thought. Iris was rubbing circles over Sirius' hunched back as the gaunt faced man stared fixedly at the house above their tiny figures. Snape sighed exasperatedly. These people really had no idea. What were they so worried about? The situation could be a thousand times worst. So, deciding they would wake him if anything happened, Snape leaned back and closed his eyes, visions of Lupin plastered to the back sides of his lids.  
  
A/N: *cackles insanely* I am so EVIL!! Hahahahahaha! Ooh, what's gonna happen next! *giggle*  
  
~*Villain*~ 


	16. Blood and Tears

Ron's Worst Nightmare  
  
  
THANX TO leah: A newbie, eh? *winks* Honored you'd take the time to sample my humble work! ChibiHoukan: Shall I kill off Ron? *looks insane* chimerical: *giggles* Whether or not you like it, lovey, it's there to stay! Ish. But don't worry, I'm not going to focus on it! *hug*  
  
Chapter Sixteen: Blood and Tears   
  
They padded stealthily down the hall, making not a sound in the cavernous corridor. Again Draco led the way, Harry right behind him, breathing down his slender neck watchfully. When he stopped suddenly at a corner, Harry ran smack into him with a low "Oomph!" Hermione hissed at him warningly and Harry grumbled darkly, rubbing his crown.   
  
Curving his serpentine body artfully around the corner, Draco ignored the others, his sharp eyes glinting in the gloomy shine of the full moon. He had picked up a movement; a fleeting glimpse of deep crimson stained with black, disappearing down the hall. Behind him he heard a sharp intake of breath.  
  
Ron.  
  
That single syllable propelled the pale boy faster than fear ever could. Giving the Gryffindors little time to recuperate, he dashed down the cold hall after the lanky figure. He began to break into a dead run when Harry plowed into him, tackling the smaller boy roughly to the floor with a reverberating slap. Clutching at empty air, Draco bit back a dry sob as Harry hissed right next to his ear, "Don't be daft, Draco! That could be a trap. I want to see his face, hear his voice. I know Ron."  
  
"So do I," Draco bit back, rasping slightly, his pale eyes piercing through the swarthy darkness with longing after the flash of red that sent his heart blazing with anxious passion. Harry gave him a searching look, his mouth set in a hard line before letting off, helping a limp Draco to his quaky feet.   
  
Quietly, creeping down the hall with tense caution in fluffy green and pink slippers, Hermione and Ginny were deathly pale in the scant light filtering through the thin slits of window in the wall, mixing with the dull gold of the torches shining dimly.  
  
"Let's get out of the open hallway," breathed Hermione urgently, tugging on Harry's sleeve. But the raven haired seeker was watching Draco, his face a blank mask, green eyes flickering like twin emeralds at the darkest time just before dawn. Draco was still staring longingly down the hall, looking crestfallen and small.  
  
"That was Ron," he protested as he was pulled back against the wall, "I know it. Potter-"  
  
"Malfoy, how can you be sure? You said there were traps all over, that thing you saw could've been one of them," Harry said softly, still watching the other boy intently. Draco didn't even spare him a glance.  
  
"You don't get it," he cried softly, "I *know* it was him. I *know* it was Ron. Potter, believe me." He fought weakly against Harry's hold. "Let me go now, Potter," he begged quietly, almost demanding. Harry reluctantly let him loose, but stayed near enough to the Slytherin to prevent any bid for freedom.  
  
Draco started forward slowly, hissing as the others moved to stop him. Harry waved away Hermione's and Ginny's voices when they started to protest and gently laid his hand on Draco's arm, letting the Slytherin pull him steadily along the hall, close to the stone wall if any guards decided to pop up.  
  
They walked in complete silence, Draco starting whenever he heard the faint shuffling of feet up ahead. Harry himself failed to hear anything, but kept grimly onto the pale boy. For some reason, he thought, I believe Draco. He believed him all the more when the sound that made Draco cry out softly hit his ears. It was a the hesitant opening of a door. They quickened their pace.  
  
Draco gasped and broke into a run as they all heard an eerie creak echo through the hall. All Harry heard from Draco was two words in a small voice; "The window." Before he could tell what was happening, Draco was tearing off down the hall, Harry keeping close to his heels and the girls following slower behind them. His heart thumped deafeningly inside his chest, pounding against his ribs in a last bout for freedom. Draco kept on running, stumbling a couple of times with sobs. Terror took hold over Harry and he rocketed forward. They were coming to a door. They rounded the last bend-  
  
It was Ron.  
  
But he was-  
  
"NO! RON!!!"   
  
~*~  
  
Lupin weaved quietly through the gloomy gravestones, wincing as he smelled death and felt the strong spells around the place prickling his senses. In his wolfic mind, all he was aware of was that he needed to find a clean way for the others back at the gate waiting for him.   
  
The cold was seeping along each individual hair and through each pore, hitting deep into the morrow of his aching bones. Lupin shuddered involuntarily and growled low in his throat, lips curling up over the wicked looking fangs. Along the wall running next to him, the ivy adorning the stone stirred as he brushed passed it, occasionally dashing sideways to avoid coming in any contact with the powerful spells hidden there. As he tensed, sensing heavy magic over a slightly thicker area, the Werewolf paused and narrowed his burning eyes into twin slits of intense concentration.  
  
"Not bad magic," he thought slowly, "just defense." Pressing his sharp muzzle into the moist leaves, Lupin whimpered softly. There was a secret door behind this patch of lush ivy he had stumbled upon. A perfect path for the others. Lupin shuffled his great paws, stirring up the soil and rubbing his scent into the ground, marking the spot. Finishing, he continued onward to plan the whole route ahead of time so that he could head the group with minor difficulty.  
  
He kept trotting at a steady pace until a prominent trap made him stop up short. It was surrounding a giant holly berry bush that reached up twenty feet in a huge archway leading straight into the castle courtyard before the huge entrance way. Lupin sneezed, the magic hung so heavy in the air. Deciding to skirt the nasty sensing curse, he began detouring around the perimeter of the strongest points. Coming up on the holly, though, he realized it was blocked. Scratching at the ground with impatience, he skipped back and forth, gnashing his teeth and raising up the hairs along his back.  
  
Creeping cautiously closer, he sniffed just on the edge of what was a crackling sphere of pure energy. Just as his nose breached the edge, a huge clawed pincer came striking out of nowhere, catching Lupin of the curve of his long jaw and sending him crashing into a stone statue standing solemnly a few feet away. He yelped in pain and watched with terrified eyes as the great pincer flashed in and out of his vision, disappearing back inside the invisible sphere with every fatal swipe aimed his way. The wolf scrambled to his feet, snarling quietly in agitation and pacing, ignoring the stinging pain lacing his face and the odd green substance dripping from his fur. Instead he approached the sphere again, this time dodging the expected blow.  
  
If he could not see the horrible monster hidden behind the spell, how was he to fight it? To a Werewolf, such seemed impossible. But recalling the faces of his other companions caused him to bristle angrily and stalk closer on his stomach toward the spell. There must be a way!   
  
As another hit was aimed at him, his sensitive wolfic ears picked up the soft tangy sound of wiry fur rubbing against metal. The creature must be in a cage of some sort, allowing it access enough to the outside so that it may take the heads off anyone trying to steal their way in to the hidden Malfoy hold.   
  
Lupin sat back on his haunches and gnawed at an itch on his left shoulder. The moon shined bright above him, a blazing white orb bright as the sun. The sky remained light to his wolfic eyes, seeing naught but blacks and whites around him. To the eyes of such a creature, night could seem as day and a black man could disappear into the backdrop of a forest and be gone from the eyes of a dog, if not the sense of him.  
  
The wolf froze. All that rung in the silent night was the lonely call of an owl and the impending rustle of the creature inside the caged sphere. Lupin thought hard, pacing again, his sharp eyes fixed on the space where he knew the cage to be. Black and white. All was just black and white in the eyes of a wolf, a dog........ a creature trapped as a deadly snare outside Malfoy Manor?  
  
~*~  
  
"RON! NO!!" Draco yelled at the top of his lungs, stumbling forward, his legs having gone completely numb and a furious buzzing rendering his mind useless. Behind him he heard Hermione's terrible scream and Ginny faint dead away from pure exhaustion and fear. Harry's voice joined his own, calling out and rushing at the window full force. But Draco made it first.  
  
He was up and over the sill before he knew that he was moving. Ron was so close below him, so close..... there! His arms encircled Ron's waist and he felt the lanky redhead stiffened even as the wind went whipping past them into oblivion. Draco tried to tell Ron it was alright, but was cut off as he felt the collar of his pajama top cut into his throat. Harry had followed him out, as blind as he had been, and grabbed the back of Draco's shirt. Craning his neck painfully around, Draco met Harry's gaze levelly, his vision wavering as his eyes watered from the sharp stinging racing over his slender neck and shoulders. Harry looked surprised, barely giving Draco a glance before looking back behind his shoulder. It was then Draco noticed that Harry himself was hanging out the window, holding tightly onto Draco while his feet were caught securely by the girls. It could have been a comical scene, what with their relief and shock. But instead they were silent and shivering, pale and cold. A rough hiss fought it's way through Draco's lips and Harry croaked up to the window, "Up!"   
  
With much grunting, panting, cursing, and (on Ginny's part) crying, the girls managed to heft Harry over the sill. He hauled himself up so that he could hook a leg over the edge and with both hands, firmly grasp Draco better. The Slytherin let out a huge gasp of air when he hit the floor of the room, still holding onto Ron, whom he had just noticed was struggling weakly in his grip. Confused, he held the Gryffindor closer, and Ron shoved at him, seeming to be regaining his strength after such a close call.  
  
Lips formed words that would not surface sound. Draco stared, hurt, while Ron scooted away from him, his eyes lowered, his jaw clenched. Ginny sobbed and moved forward to take her brother in her arms, but he rose shakily to his feet and warned her away. Speechless, they stared at him while he leaned heavily against the wall. Harry now blocked the window, and Ron's eyes were fixed on a point just above Harry's right shoulder, almost with a desperate hunger spawned from fright. Silver eyes met fleetingly with green in a telepathic question and Harry shut the window.  
  
"Ron," said Draco, slowly getting to his feet. The redhead flinched and scuttled away. Draco felt anger rise in him at his companion's strange behavior. "Ron," he repeated, sterner this time. Ron glanced up and gave him a a pained expression, looking at a loss now that the others were on their feet and unconsciously blocking any way for him to save them.  
  
You don't understand, he thought frantically, I'm meant to be a trap!!  
  
After what seemed like twelve eternity's to Harry, he marched up to Ron and gripped him tightly by the shoulders, shaking him roughly. "What's wrong! Say something now, Ron, or I swear, I'll-" But Harry never got to finish, for when he started to yell, Ron had opened his mouth in a silent scream, eyes wild, and hit Harry squarely in the jaw with a clammy, shaking fist. It was so unexpected, Harry had no chance to duck and went reeling backwards. Retaliating quickly, he grabbed at Ron's leg as he tried to go for the window again and tripped him. Luckily then Draco interfered, yanking Harry back forcefully and motioning for Hermione to block the window. She did, all the while staring at Ron with huge calculating eyes.  
  
Ginny was frightened to see her brother so. She sobbed non stop and Draco knew that it was hopeless to try and stop her. Ron fared no better than his sister. He now stood pressed into the corner as if trapped, watching all of them and crying with no sound. No sound at all. Draco narrowed his eyes.  
  
"Are you Ron, or one of Voldemort's minions?" he said coldly, eyes glittering menacingly. Ron flinched at the name, but said nothing more. What was the point?  
  
Trap! TRAP!! Ron tried in vain to warn them with both his eyes and his mouth. Harry cursed and glared at Ron while Draco sharply scrutinized him with great doubt. Ginny still stood shaking and crying, not even able to raise her eyes. It was Hermione who Ron's gaze was drawn to though. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was working, brow furrowed as if in deep thought. Ron held his breath, watching her. Then they heard the voices of Death Eaters just as she blurted out, "He's bait! That's it, we have to go. NOW!!"  
  
Draco reacted immediately with a sharply trained instinct.  
  
His father had once told him long ago;"Shall ever anyone who is not one of us enter this house, you must know where to run...."   
  
He grabbed Ron, who tried to twist away, and dashed out the door. The others ran after them and they all raced quietly down the hall father and farther from the voices that seemed to surround them and pulse within their minds.  
  
Harry had thought that Hogwarts was the most elaborate castle imaginable. But Malfoy Manor was plain inconceivable. He stopped trying to follow the directions and just ran blindly onwards. Through paintings, solid walls, running over thin air that hid walkways, even a short flying carpet that gave out after fifteen minutes. It was down deep in the lower levels that Draco finally stopped, his hand still gripping Ron's in an iron grasp. The redhead looked like he was about to be ill, and kept looking at his hand that Draco held as if in pain. When they had been running, Hermione had panted out the whole explanation, almost hitting it exactly. Ginny had been horrified and Harry looked indifferent, just weary.  
  
"Why'd we stop?" simpered Ginny in a tiny voice. She was pale as death and her whole body was quaking jerkily. Draco didn't even look at her, but started running his hands along the walls. Ron fell back slightly when his hand was released, right into Harry. That blocked any running escape. While they had been going, Hermione had also made a good point that made Ron start crying all over again. He was as much a sitting bait as he was a beacon in the Dark Lord's mind. No matter where, or when even, they were, Voldemort would be turned to him until he undid the spell cast over him.  
  
"Ah," breathed Draco, stopping at a bare patch of hard stone, a tiny patch less run over by dank moss than the rest. He turned and managed a tight smile. "This is our way out. It leads to the inner rooms, and a bottle of Floo Powder." A small sigh ran through the group and ignited a tremulous ember of hope in Ron's dark eyes. They all watched with baited breath as Draco stroked the block of stone. To their surprise, the stone shivered and crumbled into nothingness. The stones around it did the same and opened to reveal a hole barely big enough for Draco to fit through. He frowned slightly, glancing at Harry and Ron pointedly. "This might be a tight fit," he admitted, "The thing is set for me."  
  
"That's fine," said Harry hurriedly, pushing Ron toward the opening as a faint echo traced the lines of dancing light in the dim corridor. The voices were once again approaching, it was no time to be choosy.  
  
Hermione and Ginny disappeared through first, followed by Harry, Ron, then Draco himself, backing through and shutting up the opening behind him with a gentle touch on the rock. Then he turned. "Now, we just-"  
  
"Petrificus Totalus," rasped a deadly quiet voice. Draco went rigid and toppled to the floor. A few feet away to him lay Hermione and Ginny, sprawled out in weird angles, their eyes closed and hair matted. They didn't seem to be breathing.  
  
"Dragon, how good it is for you to come and visit again."  
  
~*Villain*~ 


	17. Merciful Death

Ron's Worst Nightmare  
  
  
Chapter Seventeen: Merciful Death  
  
If Lupin himself as a Werewolf could only see black and white..... could it be that the monster could be so limited as well? The wolfic mind turned and toiled in agonizingly slow thoughts. With impatience he stamped the ground and paced angrily back and forth in frustration just beyond the creature's reach. Inside the invisible sphere of magic the creature had matched the wolf's pace, shuffling from one row of claws to the next. Lupin could hear the creaking of the rock hard exoskeleton and the blood curdling rasp of low groans and crackles. Must this monster make so much commotion? He was trying to find a way to kill it!  
  
He stalked the half of the sphere he could get to, all the way to one blocked off wall of holly to another. Lucius was smart. He had set the spell just so that no matter where any intruder tried to attack the monster from, it could still see them as a black blot on white. The only way through would be the holly, as any logical burglar would think next. That would be impossible for any human, though. Undoubtedly Malfoy would have thought of such a possibility and poisoned the plant with some vile potion. Lupin could tell from where he stood that the holly flaunted jagged thorns he guessed could be red, if the wizard had used the right potion which enabled the thorns to cut, even with the lightest brush of flesh. If he remembered correctly, foot long thorns adorning a holly bush could prove to be quite a trying hassle, but there had to be a way through. Nothing is impossible, or else there would not be magic, now would there?  
  
From the far east side, the beast's intense odor only worsened and bombarded Lupin's sensitive nose. Lolling out his hot red tongue and breathing resolutely through his mouth, he ignored the gigantic sequestered mass next to him and concentrated on finding a possible route through to the other side in the solid, prickly wall of holly and deadly thorns.  
  
A way, a way, my kingdom for a way! Lupin stalked up to the impenetrable plant and pressed his paws against a twining square. It bent under his touch and he pushed more, and more until he felt the slightest prick of a sharp object. Panic flooded his head, he had been punctured by a thorn!  
  
Drawing sharply back, he licked at his tiny wound, wracking his brains for being so stupid. Though, even after licking away and waiting, nothing happened. That's odd, he thought, The last time I saw it prick someone's finger, they died.....  
  
But then again, he did not have fingers, he had thickly padded paws. Narrowing his burning eyes, Lupin pressed his face into the giant bush and tentatively felt around with his nose. The thorns were spaced evenly. Evenly enough that a normal human could not get through. But a wolf.....  
  
He scrambled clumsily into the holly, yelping when the long hairs of his tail tangled. Well, he thought with wry amusement, I'm in, but what will this do but mess up my tail?  
  
The beast roared in frustration, having lost sight of what it had guessed to be its next warm blooded meal.  
  
Wait, he cannot see me. That must mean he only has smell, and with all this pungent perfume of the thorns and holly, he'll not be able to detect me!   
  
Whining softly, very pleased with himself indeed, Lupin found solid footing and began to snake his way over to the wall of the spell that hid the creature's cage. Poking his head through two heavy leaves, he watched (now actually looking inside the sphere of the spell) as the creature, a massive cross between a lobster and a bear, trudged back and forth from one side of its prison to the other, moaning deep in its throat, great yellow bloodshot eyes rolling in frustration and flecks of foam flying from his black lips as its mouth frothed.  
  
Lupin looked closer at the magicked iron bars holding the monster in. He knew the spell, having once taken a short course on such magic. The cage kept the monster in, but the moment something else touched the bars, or went through, it would be freed. A clever trick, but not if the occupant was struck from somewhere unexpected. Especially if struck by a heavy creature with powerful claws and an iron bite.  
  
The whole eerie silence of the courtyard was shattered as a long mournful baying raced through every crevice and corner. The creature screamed, confused, and tried to find the sound, only more so confused by the cry echoing off of the empty night. It was then that Lupin struck, leaping from the dark branches that had concealed him and easily slipping between the bars, latching onto the back of the creature's putrid smelling neck where it met its armored back. He bit down, claws ripping and tearing, anchoring him to its massive back, breaking through a split in the exoskeleton. His lower legs pumped at the creatures shell, disabling whole sheets of the hard stuff. He could feel the back of the furry head toss and turn, trying to snap at him with gaping jaws and chipped, rotting teeth.  
  
This thing is nothing, he realized. Actually, he felt a fair amount of sympathy for it. What a life to lead. He wasn't even sure if it had eaten in the past..... year. Lupin thought to end it quickly and do the both of them a favor.  
  
Clamping onto the top of its head, he reached round, still clawing with his back legs, and jabbed his paws into its eyes. The poor monster staggered, moaning louder and louder in increasing pain. Lupin tore at its thin flesh, ripping its lids and its brow to shreds. It had slumped to the ground by the time he finally aimed the killing bite at the pulsing throat, ending the sorrowful life and warily backing away as its body convulsed in the last death throes of the nerve system. He watched it somberly for a few more minutes before quietly disappearing back the way he came.  
  
He knew he needn't worry of the courtyard beyond. Lucius wouldn't dare spell the area visitors Apparated in, such as the Ministry Aurors and his own fellow Death Eaters.  
  
The wolf began trotting faster and faster over the now familiar terrain, skirting any spells he sensed and pausing at the secret door, committing it to a hazy memory before starting off again. Above his lithe form, the moon blazed against the backdrop of black, surrounded by the powder sheen of stars.  
  
~*~  
  
Draco sat calmly in the chair, the only sign of his agitation the grip he had on the wooden arms. Across from him his Father lounged gracefully in a high backed throne like seat, his pewter grays studying his son from under half lowered lids. Draco struggled not to squirm, even *move*. He wouldn't do anything now that more Death Eaters had streamed into the room. They had Harry bound and gagged, standing grimly beside a tied Ron, Lucius taking a small pleasure in reminding his prisoners that the boy need not have a gag to stop any sound from issuing between his silent lips. Hermione and Ginny were in rickety chairs Lucius had conjured up, weak and barely breathing from the curse he had hit them both with simultaneously. Ginny's lids fluttered softly and she whispered the name, "Ron..."  
  
Harry's glasses had been thrown from his face when Lucius had delivered a stinging blow to the side of his head, sending the boy faltering to his knees, where, even at the man's feet, he glared back almost haughtily, a cool green fire in his eyes that wavered only slightly in his now unfocussed world. Draco took a small moment to beg the boy to stop being the hero, just stop for the time with Lucius. He may be able to put on a show for Voldemort and play the wizard along off his blind sided ego - but not with Lucius, he was just too conniving a man to fool easily.  
  
Now Draco was trying not to blink. Something about Lucius made him go still. He heard his heart pounding in his ears, ready to burst. He would scream, scream if no one spoke.....  
  
"Relax, my son. You are agitating our guests." Lucius swept his hand in a wide arc to indicate the others gathered in the room. Harry narrowed his burning eyes and clenched his fists. The scar on his forehead stood out, angry and red. Draco winced even thinking of the pain the boy was enduring now, by the look of his face and the sweat beading over his brow. Ron was peering at Draco pleadingly, sorrowfully. He thinks this is his fault, thought Draco sadly, But it isn't, why won't he understand? There is no way he could've avoided it.  
  
"I am sorry..... *Father*," spat Draco, angered by his friends' suffering. He rested his hands in his lap and bowed his head angelically, hiding his face behind a shield of damp hair, staring at the spotless floor which his feet barely brushed in the tall chair. Lucius smirked and rose from the long table that usually served as his meeting and conference table. Draco looked up when his father rounded the corner and tensed.  
  
Harry swore violently behind his gag, fighting the two Death Eaters that held him. The pale hand had came out of nowhere and caught Draco on the side of his right eye, a long manicured nail slicing the sensitive skin of his upper lid. He fell from the chair and landed in a crumpled heap, staying still until Lucius gripped the collar of his shirt and yanked him up, so that their eyes were level, Draco's feet dangling in the air. He met his father's cool gaze measuredly. Ron stared in disbelief at how alike it was to see. The same control on either face, the same hardness carefully hidden by a cool facade of pleasantries.  
  
The tension hung in the air like a thick mist and the castle itself seemed to let out a soft sigh when Lucius set his son back on his feet and gracefuly glided to his side of the table once more, holding up his hand and in it appearing a tall crystal glass of deep red wine.  
  
"You have the floor, Dragon," he drawled, bored. Draco stared at him blankly. What? Lucius rolled his eyes at his son's quizzical look and said in a clipped tone, "I suggest you offer me some kind of bargain or these nasty mudblood brats will die." The last word was hissed harshly and Draco saw Ginny shudder out of the corner of his eye. He set his jaw firmly and looked his father squarely in the face.  
  
"You need not even ask, Father. Let them go and you can have me of my own free will."  
  
A cold bark of laughter. "Are you worth so much?"  
  
Draco piqued an eyebrow cockily, "Aren't I though, Father? You let them them go, you may have me. Harm them, and I am gone. No more heir, no more regal bloodline. Take your revenge on me, your blasphemous son."  
  
Lucius smiled openly, "That is my boy, my *Dragon*. The Weasels and the......." he sneered, "*mudblood* shall be spared. The Potter boy's verdict is inevitable." Draco shut his eyes tightly. Harry looked almost bored. Ron twisted in his binds, breath hitching as he tried to speak. But it was Hermione who spoke.  
  
"You coward! He-Who - Voldemort is nothing but a madman! You give innocent life all for power, only to die in a few short years." Her eyes burned with passion and her chest heaved. Next to her, Ginny seemed to be trying to hide from Lucius' penetrating glare. He casually waved his wand and Hermione snapped back to the chair, ropes binding her arms and legs to the seat. She growled and snapped, wagging her head from side to side. The chair rocked and they all watched, Lucius amused, as the chair slowly tipped over, crashing to the floor.  
  
"Take them away," Lucius sighed, "Put them all in separate cells. Keep that *creature* bound and do not harm the Potter boy."  
  
As Ron's guard moved, he ripped free and fell forward. Draco swept from his seat and caught his tensed form, holding him close. Their lips met fleetingly before Ron was yanked from his grasp.  
  
Draco watched desperately as his friends were dragged forcibly from the room. He started slightly when a hand brushed his shoulder. How had Lucius got so close all of a sudden? But he ignored the touch, making a small sound in the back of his throat when the last flash of Ron's hair disappeared out the door.  
  
~*~  
  
"What in bloody Hell is *that*?" said Sirius loudly, holding his nose. The werewolf ignored his companion's comment and stepped lightly over the prone figure of the dead monster. He paused momentarily and looked mournfully back at its glassy eyes, now unseeing. Snape swept passed Sirius and walked over the corpse as if it were nothing but a rise in the earth. Charlie kneeled down and rested his hand against the thing's face. Bill wrinkled his nose and looked at the female Auror. Iris shrugged and followed the Potions master. She had seen worse.  
  
"We may just walk in," Snape told them upon mounting the tall stairs leading to a giant front entrance way. Lupin took the steps five by five, resting on his haunches at the top while the others caught up. Snape raised his hand to the door.  
  
"Wait," said Sirius hurriedly, digging in his pockets. Snape pursed his lips, but let the man carry on until the Auror pulled out a tiny slab of red crystal. Iris' eyes brightened and she did likewise, pulling an exact replica.  
  
"Are you sure, Sirius," she whispered. At Sirius' solemn nod, she took a deep breath and nodded at Snape. "Go ahead, Severus. Open the door. If worst comes to worst and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named shows up, we'll at least have backup if we can manage to survive for an hour or so."  
  
"Lovely," said Severus sarcastically and rapped twice on the door and paused, rapping twice more and standing back. A house elf peeked around the door frame and started to say in a tiny voice, "The Master is not in right now. You maybe come back to see Master later..." Then she caught sight of Snape and lowered her eyes. "Missy is sorry, sir. Master will come down and see you-"  
  
"No, Missy. Do not bother. Lucius is excepting me - I shall notify him of my presence myself."  
  
The little house elf nodded, obviously quite familiar with the man. She scurried off after shutting the door behind the group, looking curiously over the others. But one look from Snape stopped that and she was gone.  
  
"What now?" whispered Bill, looking around in awe at the grand gothic atmosphere the house existed in. Snape's lip curled at the question and he started off down an opposite hall, his long cloak billowing out behind his gaunt figure. Iris followed immediately behind them, and Bill after her, followed by Charlie pulling along Sirius, who was loudly protesting a suspicious bottle of brandy in an ancient case by the door.  
  
They rounded a corner, Snape still in the lead. Bill and Charlie, never being in such lavish surroundings, stumbled along, holding onto each other for support and balance. Iris viewed everything around her with a expert eye, and Lupin stuck to Snape's side while Sirius grumbled about a perfectly good bottle of brandy going to waste.  
  
He looked up, brandy forgotten, when Lupin's ruff along his back prickled and a low growl issued from the black lips. They all raised their wands and backed into a tight circle. Iris ran her thumb over the stone that would save their life if it came to it. She noticed Sirius do the same.  
  
"Severus, how it pleases me to see you again." A petite figure detached from the shadows and Lupin yelped, scrambling back into Sirius' legs. Bill and Charlie's eyes bugged and they faltered, almost dropping their wands. Iris' eyes gleamed with an odd look and Snape lowered his wand and said calmly as if stating the weather, "Likewise I'm sure, my lord."  
  
Sirius flinched and almost cried out when an ice cold hand touched his own, long fingers tracing over his knuckles to brushed the stone lying in his palm. Snape kept talking to the Dark Lord, but his fingers were pressing Sirius'. The man did not need to be asked twice. He perched the stone across his pointer finger and pressed the thin edge with his thumb. Snape added to the pressure and the Auror felt a soft sigh escape his lips as he felt the tiny shard snap in two.  
  
"Severus, my old friend. I would tell your companions to put away their wands. It shall be no use." He stepped further from the shadows and Charlie felt his stomach do somersaults. Bill's must've been doing the same for he felt his older brother's hand grip his. They both paled and their knees started to shake when more forms detached themselves from the shadows. Many many shapes in long black cloaks.   
  
Voldemort smiled.  
  
"Welcome home, Severus. And so nice to bring along a homecoming gift for me...."  
  
A/N: Sorry this is so short. It's actually a continuation of chapter sixteen, but my computer said that it was too long so I had to chop it up into two parts. Mrrrrrrmph. Anyhoosiolies, you have my most esteemed admiration if you have made it so far and are present for one last chappie. Yup, Ron's Worst Nightmare is gonna be done next chapter. *grin* I swear, I'm going to be crying. *sob* So if you read chappie eighteen, be patient if I include a sappy speech. ^_^ Au revior!  
  
~*Villain*~ 


	18. Joyous Sorrow

A/N: THANX TO K.C Matthews: Here here, now what kind of story would it be without a couple 'o cliffies? :^ Lucky: Trust me, love, I'm not he killing type except for when it comes to the unavoidable ends. r6: Oh, they shall suffer! Mahaha! chimerical: You have no idea what drama can get to! ChibiHoukan: *blush* Awww..... nuts, guyz! Mello in the Sun: Ooh, then I have just the thing for you! EmuyenneVision: *huge grin* Heh...  
  
Chapter Eighteen: Sorrowful Joy  
  
Shying away from his father's silky fingers, Draco kneeled down and gingerly lifted Harry's bent, taped up glasses from the ground, holding them tightly in his hands before tucking them away in a breast pocket on his pajama top. He could feel Lucius' eyes watching him, studying his son skeptically. He could almost see the slight curl of the thin lips and the cruel glint in the pewter flecked eyes. Not quite wanting to face what frightful music lay waiting behind him, Draco stood, looking away from the man and setting his jaw. This time, as the soft hands trailed over his collar bone, he did not move except for the tiniest flinch when Lucius touched his cheek and tilted his weary face upwards.  
  
Opening his watery gray eyes, Draco stared almost bleakly into his father's fierce glare. He felt numb and lost. He knew that Lucius would not follow up on his word and soon enough his friends would all be executed in the cruelest of ways. If the Dark Lord felt playful, he would most likely force Draco to finish the deed with the killing curse when his friends were about to burst from Crucio. Shuddering visibly, he erased the disturbing pictures from his mind and tugged his chin from his father's lingering grasp. Lucius himself did not even acknowledge the movement, merely cocked his angular face to the side and smiled easily. That easy smile sent tiny shivers dancing over Draco's skin, setting goose bumps springing up over his arms and the hairs on the back of his neck to prickle. He stepped back, but Lucius caught his arm tightly.  
  
"I'm not done with you, boy. I have not yet even begun..."  
  
~*~  
  
The gags had been ripped from their faces and the teens untied. Only Hermione remained bound, to her chair, cursing and thrashing against the magically induced ropes. Ginny stood at the bars of her cell, reaching through the cold bars and stroking her brother's tear streaked face. On Ron's other side, Harry stood brooding, sometimes rousing to stalk the stone wall of his cell or run his fingers over the bars.  
  
I will NOT stand - sit for this! shrieked Hermione mentally, wriggling about in the tight ropes that still held her back to the chair. No way on this earth was she going to let that bastard Lucius Malfoy hurt Draco. Not while she was still relatively able to move!  
  
The others finally ignored her after her valiant struggles had long since deemed pointless. Harry became more and more like a caged animal, restlessly moving about his cage, not speaking, not making any sound. His poison colored eyes bore into the stone that lay blocking his path with a heated rage. Tilting his head into Ginny's soft fingers, Ron watched his best friend detachedly. Already had he given up any hope. Draco might as well be dead by now. It was only a matter of time before Lucius came down with the Dark Lord to end their lives, or give them the Dementor's Kiss. Or even worse, knowing Lucius Malfoy. He shivered as Ginny slipped her tiny arms around his waist and clung, shaking, to his back. His fingers played lightly over her white washed knuckles, and Ron tried to close his eyes and block out the sound of Harry's shuffling feet, and the sharp cracking of Hermione's chair legs on the ground and she rocked back and forth.  
  
A single guard stood outside their cells. He leaned against the wall, trying to look bored. But Harry had seen through his act. This Death Eater was a mere boy, probably sent to keep an eye on them for a first assignment. He twitched at every crack of Hermione's chair and flinched whenever distant creaks or groans echoed down the long hall of cells. Harry had settled down and started watching him blatantly, taking a small joy in how the nervous young man would continuously glance at him. The piercing gaze was wearing on his nerves, Harry knew. He rested his chin down on his knees and sat still. The young man looked anywhere but at The Boy Who Lived.  
  
A spider scuffled across the floor near the guard and a smile quirked Harry's lips as the man practically *jumped* away from the tiny creature. He could see the red stained cheeks turn away from his gaze and look down the hall, thin, lipid mouth turned in a small scowl. Harry himself took no notice of the large arachnids making their way around his cell. Luckily Ron was in darker quarters and could not see them. Otherwise he might go mad and actually start flinging them at everyone to get them away.  
  
Harry's smile froze. His lips parted slightly in surprise. How obvious, he cried in his head, jumping to his feet. The guard cringed. Ron blinked away out of his hazy doze and looked at Harry questioningly. Ginny stood up, looking over her shoulder at Hermione, who had managed to topple herself over.  
  
They all watched with surprise as Harry leaned against his bars and stuck a fist through them. The guard back backed away slowly, his eyes large. Then, with a quick flick of the wrist, Harry sent something no one could see flying into the man's face. Instantaneously, the young guard started screaming and clawing at his face. Harry started yelling with him, falling to the ground and grabbing at invisible shapes, tossing them through the bars onto the man. Ron crawled to the bars and squinted at what Harry could possibly be doing.  
  
"Spiders," he wheezed weakly, recoiling from the ground and suddenly seeing everything in a sharp focus. Thousands of tiny creatures scuttling over the ground, and his friend kept scooping them up and throwing them with wild abandon.   
  
"Help me!" cried Harry angrily as the guard started to thrash and scream louder. Knowing an alarm would be raised, Ron blindly reached down and felt the floor. There! He shut his hand over some struggling little shape and flung it out of his cell. He found another, and did the same, then another, then another. Soon, it was nothing, just reaching down and grasping anything that moved, throwing it at the guard. Next to him, Ginny had started doing the same. The guard leaped from the floor, thrashing around and twisting, hands darting over his robes to dismantle the tiny fangs and legs of the dungeon spiders.  
  
There was a small click and Hermione yelped in pain. Something heavy and metal had hit her in the cheek. She craned her head around and squinted, being farthest from the torch light. Her friends ignored her, still throwing *anything* that could be picked up. She scooted closer and brushed the thing with her cheek.  
  
The keys!  
  
When the guard was thrashing around, they must've been thrown from a pocket. Hermione nearly sobbed with relief. She went to pick them up, to open the door, but the slight scraping of the chair told her otherwise. Cursing graphically, Hermione looked around for some sort of solution. How could she reach the handle of the door, being tipped over on the ground?  
  
Suddenly something was flung against the bars of her cage. It seemed Ginny had thrown off her cloak to be able to move better, now scooping up dirt, rocks, slime - anything to throw at the guard. Hermiones eyes fixed on the garment, her brain's gears slowly turning.  
  
Throwing herself over onto her back and biting her lips at the pain lacing her poor arms tied to the back of the chair, Hermione managed to somewhat drag herself over to the cloak. She sifted and in the flash of the faint torch light, she could see a large rat watching all that was happening. He had retreated to Hermione's cell once three of his brood had been flung through the bars and were squashed by the guard or stunned by the impact of hitting a wall. This human though, was now biting and yanking at a large, funny smelling article of clothing. The rat's whiskers twitched with interest and he inched closer.  
  
Hermione tugged at the cloak and pulled the cloth with her teeth until the side of the coat with the pockets resting at her back. She then slid her hands into the pocket and felt around. Aha! She pulled free a small piece of her tar like cookie and crumbs. Now the rat had gone still, his nose twitching madly. Was that food he smelled?  
  
Hurriedly, eye on the rat, Hermione twisted her hands painfully in the ropes, tearing at the already raw skin, and smeared some sweat wetted cookie on the ropes. The rat had now come to rest by her hip, and she shuddered at the massive size of the thing, and the reek of its oily fur. Then she lay still and watched, holding her breath, as the rat sniffed her her hands and darted out a tiny red tongue to taste the crumbs.  
  
It shook its little head and squeaked, backing away from her hands. She struggled not to scream at it when the rodent crawled back along the wall and disappeared into jagged rip in the stone. She choked out a small sob instead, eyes clouding with stinging tears.  
  
They cleared into cloudy vision. Hermione looked dully around, ears aching from the screams of the guard and her friends - now taken to banging on the bars - and thought of her failure. But nothing to the pain that beat inside her chest. All was lost. The blunt end pressed upon her and made it hard to breathe.  
  
Then she noticed a small movement out of the corner of her eye. She narrowed her eyes and craned her neck forward. Numerous shapes were trotting along the line of the wall, whipping their bald tails and long whiskers twitching with hungry impatience. Hermione gasped.  
  
It seemed the rat enjoyed tar tasting cookies, and wanted some friends to try them, too.  
  
~*~  
  
Voldemort waved his wand lazily and smiled as the group (including Lupin) was thrown back against the wall, stuck to it. Snape looked over his shoulder and straightened his shoulders, turning back to his old master. He bowed once, grimacing. Dumbledore should *be* here.....  
  
"How shall I kill them, Severus," bubbled Voldemort with a demented pride, his rasping voice echoing eerily around the whole group. "How shall *we* kill them, Severus!" He laughed, and Sirius flinched at the high-pitched peels of mirth dripping from the nonexistent lips.  
  
As Voldemort raised his wand once more, a cruel smile chasing itself over his twitching mouth, there came a crashing at the door. Snape threw himself to the side as a volley of magical blasts broke down the door and people came streaming into the entrance hall. In a few short seconds, the air crackled and fizzed with curses, hexes, and spells alike. Flashes of green light lit the ghostly pale faces of Death Eaters and Aurors. One could hear Voldemort screaming powerful spells and frequent cries of "Avada Kadrava!"  
  
There was no way for the Dark Lord to escape now. He realized it as he started to flee down the hall, his Death Eaters raising all bloody Hell against the Aurors. Then a man smoothly stepped from the wall in front of him and Voldemort hissed darkly.  
  
"Tom," greeted Dumbledore calmly, "It has been too long."  
  
"Albus, you old fool." The Dark Lord relaxed and smiled easily. "Soon to be a dead fool, I'm afraid."  
  
The two men solemnly raised their wands and bowed to each other.  
  
~*~  
  
Blood only went to put the rats into a frenzy. They managed to thin down the ropes with their almost ravenous ripping to get every crumb, and coat Hermione wrists with heavy blood. She yelped as they surged over her skin, biting and slicing at the crumbs and warm river of blood snaking it dusty way over the ground. She blinked away tears bravely, knowing that if she made too much fuss, the animals would run away and all could be lost.  
  
Finally, the rats started slinking away and Hermione was able to lift her freed hands to her face and inspect the damage. It proved to be quite immense. She winced. They were swollen and red, aching and still streaming with blood. Wonder how many diseases I just received, she thought darkly. A simple patch spell would work, but first she would need to get to the guard, and by the looks of it, that better be soon, for the others had nothing else to throw.  
  
Untying her feet was torture. She let herself cry then, as the stinging, piercing, mind numbing pain seethed over her nerves. She managed barely to wriggle one foot free and grab the keys, half crawling to her door and reaching through the bars. Ron noticed what she was doing and rushed over, taking the key and turning it for her. Hermione stumbled out, knocking into the wall facing them and tossing the keys to Ron as she slumped to the ground, dizzy with blood loss. Before long, the other three were out and searching the quaking Death Eater's robes for a wand.  
  
Ron performed the spell, and handed the wand over to Hermione, her hands still hot to the touch, and motioned to his throat. She nodded and muttered a couple trying spells that failed against his silence. Growling with frustration, Hermione wracked her brain for the counter spell. Harry reached up and took down the torch, bringing it over. Ginny cocked her head to the stairs leading up and out of the dungeon and gasped to her companions, "More are coming, he must've notified them somehow!" Ron shook his head as Hermione made a sound of protest and they were again running through the confusing, labyrinthian halls of Malfoy Manor.  
  
"We need to find Draco," panted Hermione, still trying to come up with the spell to break the magic over Ron. Harry skidded around a corner, nearly falling over, and stopped dead in his tracks. They all held their breath and listened; above them roared a great pounding wave of crashes and booms.  
  
"What could that be?" whispered Ginny frantically, her eyes huge and round. Harry closed his eyes and swayed on the spot, his hand inching up to rest over his scar. He gasped and fell to his knees, Ron barely catching him before the raven haired boy fell over.  
  
"It's Voldemort," he breathed in a tiny voice, "And Dumbledore. They're fighting. I see it....."  
  
A light flickered at the end of the passage. Ron looked up sharply and tensed as shadows played over the walls, stretching to impossible heights. He wrenched a babbling Harry to his feet and drug him along the hall, Hermione and Ginny running up ahead, the brunette using the guard's wand to efficiently light their way.  
  
Ron ran heavily, half carrying his friend, who kept talking as if nothing was happening - of Dumbledore and Voldemort.  
  
"Dumbledore is on his knees..... there's blood..... it's running over the carpet..... he's still fighting..... a flash..... green light..... laughter..... Merlin, I know it....."  
  
~*~  
  
Bill rolled to the side, ducking as a heavy candle holder was swung over his head. It missed completely and cracked into the skull of another Death Eater, splitting his face in half. Bill gagged and staggered behind a suit of armor as a spray of blood flecked his face. He saw Sirius and Iris fighting back to back, shooting off curse after curse, after curse. But where was Charlie? His brother had been cornered by three Death Eaters when Bill had saw him last, but where could he be now?  
  
"Bill, thank Merlin I found you! We need to find Draco. Lucius could kill him whenever, Iris hasn't seen the bastard yet!" Charlie sported an ugly cut across his eye, forcing the brilliant blue to be shut. Bill reached to touch it, but Charlie batted his hand away. "We don't have time! Sirius and Iris are going to cover us, and then follow. Snape is waiting in the next hall. Let's go!" Bill stumbled forward behind his brother. They both kept low to the ground as curses were sent sizzling right over their heads, one bullet like jet of magic catching the side of Bill's face and sending him sprawling on the ground. Charlie pulled him up and they continued, managing to send off a hex here and there before diving out a doorway and into an empty hall. Or a hall they thought was empty. Snape seemed to materialize out of thin air, and wave them to hurry. They began running down the hall, shortly after joined by a bright-eyed Iris and a bloody Sirius.  
  
The five adults made it up a couple flights of stairs with no trouble before Snape took them into a dank wing of the castle. He warned them to move quietly and keep their ears sharp. These were the personal rooms of Lucius, and the most dangerous part of the castle. Bill and Charlie were further dazzled by the castle when Snape dropped down through a hole in the floor, and when they were swallowed by a dragon's head mounted on the wall, sending them slipping and sliding down a long passage.  
  
"I thought we were supposed to be heading upwards," growled Iris, nursing a twisted wrist. Sirius shook his head, and Snape made a face when drops of blood scattered over his robes, flung from the shaggy nest of ebony tendrils.  
  
"We are, in time. This is the longest way to Lucius' private chambers. But the most necessary. Think of it as a safe detour around a very bad accident not yet happened," answered the potions master smoothly, walking right through a blank faced wall of deep stone. Too tired to marvel at it, the rest of the group followed and stared dismally at a winding wire staircase leading up and out of their sight that rested beyond the otherside.  
  
"The road to Hell was always thought the longest," said Sirius pessimistically, mounting the stairs with a carefully reigned weariness.  
  
~*~  
  
"Hermione, we've been at this forever! Are you sure you know where your going?"  
  
"Yes, Ginny! Now, quiet."  
  
"It just seems-"  
  
"Shush!"  
  
A little further they shuffled down the hall.  
  
"Someone must die..... it's so close....."  
  
"Merlin, Ron, can you get him to shut up?"  
  
Ron shook his head and slapped Harry lightly on the cheek. The Boy Who Lived shivered, but did not stop his relentless flow of words. Hermione wondered if it would hurt to magically gag him up, but decided against it. Wand light was probably pushing the bounds of the castle's sensory spells. And Harry wasn't that loud.....  
  
"SPENINDA COLIOSKAA!!!"  
  
Alright, so maybe she had thought too soon?  
  
Ron threw Harry into another, smaller corridor as Hermione muttered a spell. Ginny took lookout, shivering. Ron held Harry still as Hermione weaved a magical line to close up his lips. Soon he was silent and his friend had the chance to notice the dark blood oozing from the lightning bolt scar. It flowed in a steady river down the left side of his face, leaving a trail of heavy black beads on the floor. Hermione gasped, staunching the flow with her shirtsleeve. Ron tore a piece of his pj top and pressed it to the scar. Soon both articles of cloth were soaked thoroughly and Harry started to moan through his gag, louder and louder. Hermione, feeling slightly panicky, slung Harry's arm over her shoulder, Ron doing the same with the other, and followed Ginny down the hall, whispering her directions, and gradually yelling them as Harry's moans turned to screams. His eyes had flicked open to stare unseeing into the darkness beyond, wide and frantic.  
  
The scar bled heavier and heavier. Soon there zig zagged trail of blood behind them, and Hermione felt her hands on fire with pain. Ginny's legs nearly gave out from tense exhaustion and Ron pushed Hermione away, taking the full bulk of Harry's weight upon himself.  
  
Hermione soon lost sense of direction and sense of time itself. She just ran onward, listening to the agonizing sound of Harry's visions, Ron's hitched breath, and Ginny's quiet sobs. She led the group through every shortcut she could detect, and soon they found themselves very high up in the castle. Before Ron's legs gave out, they stopped at a window and Hermione stuck her head out, drinking in the fresh air of the darkest time, just before dawn.  
  
Then she heard something. A voice, just above them on a balcony. It sounded just like....  
  
"Draco," croaked Ron, his voice laced with phlegm. He coughed and wretched over the floor, spilling contents that resembled wiry green cotton. Ginny gasped and held him up as he coughed violently. Hermione craned her neck, listening closer. It was indeed Draco, and a staircase was just up ahead of them. By some weird twist of chance, they had managed to find their friend.  
  
Ron staggered down the empty hallway, clutching his side as the violent coughing came upon him wave after wave. Harry, still half caught in his dazed reverie, followed like some living corpse. Ginny tugged at Hermione before darting after her brother. Hermione took one last look above her head before ducking back inside and trotting after the others. Fear gripped her heart. For she had heard another voice along with Draco's. It seems they would meet Lucius Malfoy once again.  
  
~*~  
  
"Father, you're mad!" cried Draco, trying to pull free of his father. But Lucius only threw his son to the ground and pointed his wand cooly at the boy, aimed right between the eyes.  
  
"Am I ?" he taunted in a quiet voice, "Or am I only making a righteous punishment to one who has committed the ultimate crime. You have betrayed me, Draco. Your own father. Your own *blood*. And now you shall pay in blood." The wand was held steady, as steady as he held Draco's unwavering gaze.  
  
The boy did not shiver, he did not cry, he did not move. He lay half on his back, immobile. His father was in a dangerous mood. The worst kind, a kind of quiet rage that had built up over time; all for this single moment. Draco shut his eyes tightly. He thought about Ron and the others. What would they think? Perhaps those four would be the only ones to care if he was killed.   
  
Ron will forget about me, he thought bitterly, opening his eyes. He'll forget about the sorry Angel who had fallen. This is for the best, though I would have liked to take Lucius with me.  
  
With a remarkable reserve, Draco picked himself up from the ground with dignity, even dusting off his pajamas and tugging the top straight. He held up his chin and threw back his shoulders defiantly, looking his father bravely in the eye. Then he said, almost lazily, "Kill me then. I don't care how you go about it. But when you do, look me in the eyes. Look me in the eyes until they see no longer. Grant me that, and I will give you my life free of will."  
  
Lucius actually smiled, the wand still raised. He approached Draco slowly, taking long strides and never breaking their mutually intense gaze. He stopped right in front of his son, the tip of his wand pressed to the hollow of Draco's throat. Then he raised a hand and cupped the side of his son's face, brushing the thumb over pale pink lips and stroking a dirty white cheek.  
  
"You could have been *so* much, my Dragon."  
  
"I was never yours, father."  
  
The man chuckled, digging the point of the wand hard against the boy's flesh. Draco did not move. "You act just like a Gryffindor, *my* son. And you are acting most unwise towards me. Do you not realize that I hold your life now in my hands?"  
  
"I know that very well, father. So use it. Do it now, if you need to so badly."  
  
"Ah, my son." Lucius pulled Draco forth sharply, and the boy fell into his arms, head pressed to his father's breast. He breathed in the familiar scent of darkness and spices, closing his eyes. If it must be this way, it must. He hesitantly uplifted his hands and rested them on Lucius' back. He squeezed a little as he felt feather light lips brush his crown, stirring the corn silk tresses with warm breath. Draco allowed himself to relax into his father's embrace, and whimpered quietly as Lucius stroked his hair.  
  
"Let him go, Lucius, you bastard!"  
  
"Touch him and we'll blast you apart!"  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"Sirius?"  
  
"Ron! Ginny!"  
  
"Bill, Charlie," rasped Ron thickly.  
  
Lucius did not even turn. He tightened his grip on the boy in his arms. Draco stiffened and his pale eyes fluttered open. But he did not try to push away.  
  
"Lucius, I suggest you let the boy go and lie on the ground."  
  
Now Lucius lifted his head and spoke to the night, his eyes lazily half closed. His stroking did not falter, though his fingers grasped Draco's soft hair tightly as he said smoothly, "I had known of your betrayal to us, Severus. But our - *my* lord would not believe me. He had such *trust* in you, Severus."  
  
"Let Draco go."  
  
"Why? What do I have to lose now? Either way, I die. So why don't I take the boy with me, eh?" He turned slowly, twisting Draco around so that he held the boy tightly by one long arm draped across his slim chest.  
  
"You would never take your own life, Lucius. I know you too well."  
  
Another soft chuckle. It chilled Ron's bones. His light brown eyes fixed on Draco, but the blonde boy seemed to be in some kind of trance.  
  
"Fine, Severus. Have it your way, take the boy." Lucius suddenly shoved Draco forward, flicking his wrist and dragging the thin, razor edge point of a dagger across Draco's alabaster chest. Blood spilled in a thin ribbon from his front, and Draco's eyes widened fleetingly to meet Ron's as he sailed towards the ground. Ron lunged forward, barely catching him in time to stop the dull crack of bone on stone. He held Draco tightly in his lap, sobbing and crying to the other boy as Lucius laughed.  
  
"At least I have something! He did it to himself!" Lucius backed away from them, his dagger hand up and shaking. His wand was trained on Snape.  
  
Harry leapt to his feet, face chalk white with rage. His fingernails dug into his palms, creating half moon arcs of silver kissed crimson in the dying moonlight. He ground his teeth, grabbed the guard's wand from Hermione and pointed it at Lucius, running forward as he bellowed, "Avada Ke-"  
  
But a dark shape blocked him and went careening into Lucius, knocking him over the edge in a tangle of fur, snarls, and fangs. The two twisting shapes hurtled from the edge and seemed to hang in space and Time for a full minute as the others watched in horror. Sirius cried out and ran to the edge, grasping at thin air as Lupin and Lucius went tumbling down the side of the tower.  
  
He was shoved roughly to the side though, as Snape jumped halfway over the edge himself and yelled at the top of his voice, "Accio Werewolf!" And in the next few seconds, Lupin was brought back over the edge, thrashing and twisting, yelping in pain. The sun was rising.  
  
Bill bent down and tried to pull the barely breathing Draco from Ron's grasp. But his younger brother shoved him away and stood, taking Draco with him. The pale boy had never looked smaller than nestled in Ron's arms, his tiny hands curling against Ron's bare neck. The lanky redhead strode past his brothers and an abashed Iris, moving slowly, but steadily. Ginny dashed after him, eyes wild, followed by Iris, Bill, and Charlie. Harry, having fallen to the ground, face drenched in blood, was now being pulled to his feet by Sirius. The Auror slung one of his Godson's arm across his shoulders and attempted to lift the boy up. But Harry pulled away. "I can walk," he said tonelessly. When they reached the door, he stumbled and Sirius caught him, holding him up as they continued down the passageway.  
  
Snape unclipped his cloak and covered Lupin, bare and shivering on the stone floor. The Werewolf opened his eyes and looked at Snape. The potions master shifted under the intensity of the gaze.  
  
"This brings them back, doesn't it, Severus?" Lupin whispered, reaching up to touch Snape's face. Snape gripped the clammy hand tightly and shut his eyes, answering quietly, "So it does, Remus."  
  
"You saved my life, Severus."  
  
"As I have countless times before this dawn, Remus."  
  
"Let me repay you. For once, Severus?"  
  
The potions master could not decline as his head was pulled down and mouth consumed by the soft lips of the Werewolf.  
  
A/N: NOT THE END, DAMMIT!! *eases down* Go onward, brave one!! *grin* I kind of made it too long again and had to split it! ^__^ Sorry for the inconvenience! But there's one more after this one!  
  
~*Villain*~ 


	19. Sorrowful Joy

Chapter Nineteen: Er, 18 really, if you want get all technical with me.....  
  
Sirius sat behind his promotional desk, leaning back with his feet on the desk after telling off the umpteenth reporter to sneak into his office that day. Work had been more hectic than ever, and this was one of the rarities of the past two weeks. But if even *one* more reporter came to hear the heroic tale of Lucius' death, he was going to tear out his hair!  
  
The door opened and Sirius groaned, taking down his feet and grabbing his wand. No way was he going to let this go on! No way in-  
  
"Easy there," said Iris, laughing. As she walked in, her lustrous hair bounced against her shoulders, streaming down to touch the small curve at the base of her back. Sirius sat back with another, happier groan, allowing the woman to ease into his lap. "You're getting a raise, you know," she said, tweaking his nose good naturally, "Being some sort of hero really does pay off. And Fudge was laid off this morning."   
  
Sirius grinned from ear to ear, giving her a sloppy kiss on the nose before laughing out loud, "I know! I think it's absolutely grand that Arthur's taking that old quack's place. He deserved it."  
  
ÒNo doubt about it, love. But, 'absolutely grand?' What's gotten into you, Sirius. Did the Dark Lord get defeated or something?" Her smile faded, sarcastic humor somewhat doused by the darkness that had crept into her fiancee's eyes. She rested her forehead against Sirius' and sighed, "That's the rules of war, Sirius. No matter what the outcome, it's never quite a happy ending."  
  
"But he was the greatest wizard to ever live, Iris. The world won't be the same without him."  
  
"I know, Sirius, but there was no other way. He had known this for years. Dumbledore wouldn't like it if you moped about him all the time."  
  
"No, he wouldn't, would he? He would tell me to stop being a prude and focus on the beautiful woman in my life."  
  
Iris giggled as Sirius nibbled at her neck. "He always was a wise man - with good taste, too!"  
  
~*~  
  
"Is that MUD!?! As my brothers, you should know that we try and keep an orderly and *clean* work space here at the Ministry of Magic!"   
  
"Oh, bugger off, Percy. We have some stuff to deliver from Mum since your work week has been just *so* stress filled."   
  
Percy puffed up like a bull frog. Never before had he resembled Mrs. Weasley so much. "Well, I *never*!"  
  
Bill gave Charlie a weary grin before walking off, leaving Percy sputtering and puffing behind them.  
  
~*~  
  
"It's kind of weird, you know?"  
  
"I can't even imagine, Harry." Hermione yawned, feeling Harry's forehead in a motherly way. He batted at her hand, grinning and rolling away from her. She cried out to him as he disappeared over the edge of the slope and want tumbling down the hill, roaring with laughter. Rolling her eyes, Hermione dove after him with a yell and landed on top of him in a heap. They helped each other sit up and Harry looked at her with an expression that made Hermione struggle very hard not to cry.  
  
"I'm free, Hermione," he said wistfully, eyes going to the distant horizon, his tone awed, "I'm free now."  
  
"I *do* know that, Harry," she said, "As much as I know that you haven't yet finished your Summer homework!" At the despised word, Harry bolted, running up the hill. She started after him, bursting out laughing as he tripped and went sprawling into a prickly bush. As she watched him disentangle himself from the branches, whining and plucking thorns from his arms, she whispered, "And no one deserves that freedom more."  
  
~*~  
  
"So..... here we find ourselves again, Severus."   
  
"It most certainly seems so."  
  
"This time I remembered to bring my own utensils. Perhaps I will have a chance to use them."  
  
"I see not why you insist on selecting such a place to dine. They shall take notice of your eating..... requirements."  
  
"It doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you, Severus."  
  
The sallow man gave soft, bitter laugh. "Don't let your emotions get tainted by my own, Lupin. I still do not like you any better than I did when-"  
  
"When you kissed me?"  
  
Snape fell silent, suddenly very interested in the table cloth, a plain white square draping over the plain little wood table. Across from him, the Werwolf smirked, tawny eyes flashing with amusement.  
  
"I do agree with you though, Severus."  
  
He looked up, black eyes distrusting, "Mmm?"  
  
"You *don't* like me."  
  
"What is your point, Lupin? You are giving me a headache."  
  
Lupin grinned like a happy toddler and leaned forward, motioning for Snape to do the same. Snape rolled his eyes and did so, stopping when their noses almost touched. He didn't trust the sparkling gleam in Lupin's bright eyes one bit. His long fingered hand gripped the edge of the table. What could Lupin be up to?  
  
"You *love* me," said the Werewolf coyly, catching Snape's lips in a chaste kiss before leaning back and stretching like a cat, watching his companion's reaction with one lazy eye.  
  
The potions master shook off his surprise and glared hotly at the haughty Werewolf. "A bit cocky, aren't we?"  
  
"That's what happens when I get someone as stubborn as you to admit something that *I've* known for years."  
  
"I haven't admitted anything," snapped Severus, leaning back stiffly, his cheeks flushed. Lupin looked ready to giggle like a little girl.  
  
"Sometimes," the Werewolf whispered, playing with his cloth napkin, "When you would stay with me, I would pretend to be out of it. But in reality, I knew *exactly* what would happen." When Snape pursed his lips, starting to rise from his chair, Lupin practically threw himself forward and caught the other man's sleeve. "And I've always wanted to tell you," he breathed, a wisp of light hair falling into his brilliant eyes, "You were the only one I had, Severus. The only one who cared enough to *stay*. You can't possibly know what you mean to me. Now please, one more time Severus, for me. Please stay."  
  
Lupin's heart leapt with joy as Snape gave a resigned sigh and sat back down slowly, rubbing his temples. He shot Lupin an annoyed look and said irritably, "You're lucky I have no taste for silver. Otherwise, I doubt I could stand your presence."  
  
"Whatever you say, Severus," sang Lupin happily, brushing back his hair as the rare cooked steak was set in front of him by the waiter. Snape picked up his fork and picked at his salad, watching with amusement as Lupin very uncharacteristically *tore* into the meat.  
  
"You animal," he teased lightly.  
  
~*~  
  
Ron peaked around the door in the hospital, delicate white flowers clutched much too tightly in his arms. The single bed in the dim lit room was hidden by thick pea green curtains and the redhead let out a sigh. The nurse had had to forcibly throw him out of the hospital twice, nearly giving him a leg locking curse when she had yelled that visiting hours were over. Luckily, he had managed to sneak back inside past security with the help of Harry's Invisibility Cloak.  
  
The occupant of the bed was fast asleep. Ron set the flowers in a white vase sitting on the bedside table, shuffling the other flowers aside to allow room for the new bouquet. Looking back at the serene face, he jumped slightly to see the foggy gray eyes wide and studying him with a smirk. Ron smiled, relaxing, and wordlessly slipped between the sheets, settling comfortably next to the blonde.  
  
"Good morning." Draco brushed Ron's lips with a thumb and smiled when the other boy ducked his head and yawned.  
  
"Are you feeling better?" asked Ron, rubbing his eyes. He had woken up two hours early to come and see Draco before they left for school the next day.   
  
Draco drew back the covers and shrugged as Ron peeked out at him with big brown eyes from beneath the thin white blanket. "So-so," he sighed, "I'll be able to go to school just fine. But one of the medi-witches told me that I'd be sporting this lovely scar for the rest of my life."  
  
Ron traced a finger along the jagged line where the poisoned blade of Lucius Malfoy had sliced the fine alabaster skin. He shuddered, remembering the glassy look in Draco's eyes before he had slipped out of consciousness. The blanket rustled softly as Draco took Ron's hand and gently kissed the pale palm.  
  
"You don't have long?"  
  
"No," admitted Ron heavily, dropping his eyes, "I'm not supposed to leave the pub. But..... I had to see you before tomorrow."  
  
"Sap, you saw me yesterday. I'm no better, and no worse."  
  
Roin blushed prettily in the dim light. "Yes, but-"  
  
"Shush." Draco placed a finger over Ron's lips, quieting him. Then the blonde snuggled down under the covers, tucking himself nicely under Ron's chin. "Will you just hold me," he whispered softly. Warmth flooded his body as the long arms encircled him gently and Ron kissed him feather light on the top of his head.   
  
"Always," Ron whispered back.  
  
~*Compleo*~  
  
A/N: I know, kind of corny and quick. But I tell you, this was written through tears, people! Tears!! *sob* This story is dedicated to all who took the time to read it. Thanks, dearies! I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing the blasted thing. ;^D So then, my friends....... Au revior.   
  
~*Villain*~ 


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